


Outtakes and Other Misadventures

by Blazonix



Series: Together to the Future [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: May or may not fit into the main story, Outtakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 44,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9723695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blazonix/pseuds/Blazonix
Summary: Small pieces that don't fit in the overall scheme of the Together to the Future series.





	1. Valentine's Day

They’re six years old. Sometimes they have a problem acting it, and sometimes they don’t. He realizes this one day when he accidentally makes a terrible comment about kunoichi classes.

The sad part is, he can’t remember what he said just that it took a moment for his brain to go, “Whoa, not okay.”

It's too late to take back once the boys around him started breaking out into laughter. Sakura took it pretty well which is why he really should have known better.

He arrives to school one day, Akamaru in his arms, when he sees _it_.

There's a mountain of sweets stacked haphazardly on top of his desk. The pile of boxes is as tall as he is, if not more so. He puts Akamaru down and asks for the ninken’s analyses.

Akamaru senses no poison or booby-traps. It is, as far as the ninken can tell, just candy. He risks an enhanced whiff of his own and concludes the same.

Then he’s left with nothing but questions. Sakura is sitting with her chin resting atop her hand, arm dangerously close to the stack. She’s enjoying his reaction, and he _knows_ she has something to do with it.

He can feel the stares of the other children digging into him. A bead of sweat drips down his neck, and he takes a step back.

“What is this?” He asks.

“Don’t you know?” Sakura says sweetly, “It’s the fourteenth of February.”

“Valentine’s Day isn’t real,” he bites back.

 _It doesn’t exist here_ , he silently says.

“Well no, but all the other girls thought a day of romance to be a great idea,” Sakura smiles evilly at him.

A foreboding feeling encompasses him, and he takes a look around the room. Most of the girls watch his every move, and he thinks he can see Hinata trying to disappear behind a book.

The boys though, they’re the ones giving him the ominous feeling. The majority of them are staring at him like he’s an enemy spy. Their eyes go from the candy stacked on his desk to him with envy.

“Was this for the wisecrack about kunoichi classes?” He asks with a grunt.

Sakura’s smile goes wider, and she begins tapping her fingers together like the evil overlord she is. Akamaru warns him of the teacher’s approach.

He gives the candy pile a desperate look. Kono-sensei will have his head for bringing what he considers distractions to school. His eyes shoot around the room, mind whirling.

Akamaru tells him Naruto just ran into Kono-sensei outside the door. The door shakes from the sheer volume, and he breathes a sigh of relief. The kid doesn’t know it, but the loudmouth has just saved his hide.

“Alright,” he grabs as many boxes as he can, “I accept your candy but not your feelings. That’s gross, and I know Sakura probably threatened you.”

He can see many of the girls eyes narrow. He sees Ino take out a practice kunai and decides to backpedal.

“Or she asked, and you guys were really nice to give her a hand,” he amends.

The girls relax, and he breathes another sigh of relief. Girls, he found, held grudges over the weirdest things for the longest time.

“Since you did this,” he growls to his seatmate, “you get half.”

He dumps the boxes on top of Sakura who hisses at him. He looks down at the small pile still on his desk. Akamaru is content to pretend he has nothing to do with this situation and offers no advice.

His eyes do another trek across the room, searching for potential targets. No girls, he thinks, because they’d get picked on if he did that.

He is, for a moment, tempted to throw them all at Sasuke’s head. Surprisingly, the Uchiha boy is also giving him an ugly look. Then again, the death of the Uchiha hasn’t happened yet.

Sasuke always has his nose stuck up in the air but is a weirdly cheerful kid. He doesn’t have the heart to throw him to the wolves just yet.

Akamaru gives him another warning, and he makes a decision. Taking the remaining boxes into his arms and leaping up and over the desk behind him, he throws all the boxes towards the back corner.

“These are yours,” he tells the young Shino.

He only just makes it back to his seat before the door opens. He spends the time until lunch alternating between listening to the lesson and making faces at Sakura when Kono-sensei’s back is turned.

Sakura spends the lesson trying to pretend she doesn’t have a bunch of small boxes in her lap and giving him the most amazing glares.

Life is good, he thinks. The class empties for lunch, and Sakura takes a moment to figure out what to do with her newly gained candy.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he tells her mockingly.

She throws a box at his head.


	2. Space is for Ninjas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still writing the next chapter of With No Regrets, or re-writing in this case after a hard drive crash. Something silly to let off steam.

“Sakura,” he begins in his now high-pitched voice, “what did you **do**?”

“I-I,” she stammers unable to finish.

She’s staring at her tiny hands, face conveying her unspeakable horror.

An irritated yip that sounds more like a stepped-on chew toy reminds him that Akamaru’s been dragged into this too.

He steps out of the pants and shoes that pool around him and flaps an over-sized jacket sleeve at the girl next to him.

“I gave you that seal to give to your teacher,” he says irritably.

“I tried!” Sakura cries. “But then Naruto-”

They both pause and look to the ceiling in reflex.

Ah, he thinks. He understands everything now.

“ _Naruto_ ,” Sakura growls, voice high and sweet.

It’s rather unnerving to hear.

She kicks off her own over-sized shoes and steps out of shorts turned pants. She scowls into the collar of her jacket while he shares a commiserating look with Akamaru whose eyes are barely open.

He’s not sure if she still has access to her chakra, but Sakura looks like a toddler about to throw a temper tantrum. He inches backwards, taking care not to trip.

It’s not fear, he tells himself; it’s a matter of survival.

When Sakura looks like she’s gone from murderous rage to simply angry, he decides it’s time to get down to business.

“So,” he starts slowly, “I guess we should figure out if turning into small children is all that happened.”

“What do you mean?” Sakura questions warily.

“Well,” he stretches it out, “we could have always traveled back in time.”

“You don’t think?” She asks breathlessly.

“Or we could have ended up in alternate universe,” he speculates. “Maybe everyone else is really old, maybe we don’t have chakra anymore, maybe-”

“Stop!” Sakura interrupts.

He gives her a look.

“Maybe we switched sex,” he finishes.

She opens her mouth to say something, freezes, and gives him an uncertain look.

“You don’t think?”

“Can’t rule it out,” he reasons.

Literally anything could have happened when that seal went off. It’s as frightening as it is exciting.

“I’m not-I can’t-no,” Sakura stutters.

He raises an eyebrow at her. They look down the front of their jackets at roughly the same time.

“Still a boy,” he announces cheerfully.

“I’m not a boy, thank the Sage,” Sakura sags in relief.

He doesn’t say that it would have been interesting, and that he feels slightly disappointed. They have more important things to talk about.

“How are we, chakra-wise?” He asks.

“Mm, well,” Sakura closes her eyes, “it’s still there, but I’m having problems pulling it.”

He closes his own eyes and breathes. He reaches for the familiar feeling in his gut and _pokes_.

He doesn’t get the rush of energy willing to spread, but he feels it all the same.

“Same,” he tells her, “I think I can use it if needed, but it won’t be easy.”

She grimaces and swings the sleeve of her jacket back and forth.

“I think we can only rely on mine in emergencies,” she states.

They look at each other uncertainly. The borrowed library room still looks the same, but who knew what wait outside these walls?

Akamaru barks at them to get a move on.

“Akamaru’s right,” he tells Sakura.

She gives him that wry look to remind him that no, she hasn’t magically found a way to understand him.

“We can’t stay here,” he clarifies. “Time to see the outside world.”

“If Ino or Kakashi-sensei sees me like this, I’ll die,” she groans.

“Kakashi is who we have to see, so I hoped you’re prepared,” he says with humor.

He places Akamaru on top of his head, which is harder than he remembers it being, and attempts to open the door.

This, too, is harder than he remembers it being. He ends up having to get Sakura to hold a stack of books together while he climbs them.

When the door opens with a click, they both let out a quiet cheer. He rushes past Sakura before stopping suddenly.

Akamaru lets out a concerned squeak.

“What is it?” Sakura asks nervously from behind him.

How to say this, he wonders to himself.

“You might want to come see this,” he settles on.

“What do you…” She trails off, eyes going round.

“Akamaru, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” he quotes in amusement.

The reference flies over Akamaru’s tiny head.

“Why,” Sakura starts, eyes still impossibly wide, “are there **aliens** in our library?”

He grimaces.

“Look at the windows,” he points out.

He watches as her eyes trail to the back of the room. Her face pales dramatically.

“Oh my Sage,” her mouth hangs open in horror.

“We’re in space,” she says faintly. “Why are we in space?”

“I imagine that’s where the aliens are from,” he says dryly.

He watches the bizarre looking beings roam around, looking through scrolls and books.

Sakura makes sputtering noises, and he wonders when the aliens are actually going to notice they’re there.

He gives it forty-five more seconds.

“What do we do?” Sakura whispers brokenly.

Akamaru makes a consoling bark, and he rubs his face in thought.

Got it, he thinks.

He’s about to make a joke about needing more space anyways, when a purple figure with seven eyes points at them with a shriek.

Thirty-three seconds, he thinks disappointedly.

The rest of the aliens, he counts nine in all, turn to face them. One of them points what looks like a futuristic gun at them.

He grabs Sakura by the sleeve and pulls her back into the room, slamming the door behind them.

“Help me bar the door,” he barks.

Using chakra, they manage to push one table against the door, and overturn the other table as a makeshift cover.

Without making a sound, they dig through their pouches on the floor and begin booby-trapping the room.

Priming the last explosion tag, they retreat behind their temporary cover. Sakura crouches next to him, kunai in hand, and Akamaru flexes his tiny paws.

Banging from the door seems to match the pounding of his heart, and he has to fight down the urge to grin.

“So,” he begins, “is it really an alternate universe?”

Sakura shoots him a glare.

“Why is that a question?” She bites out.

“Think about it,” he tells her. “Have you ever seen outer space in the Naruto universe?”

Her eyebrows furrow together, and he knows he has her.

“Think about it.” He manages to say with a straight face, “We could have accidently sent the library to space instead.”

“No, no, no,” Sakura shakes her head.

“ _Think about it_ ,” he insists. “Aliens in space, ninja’s in space. Maybe they’ve always been out there. Maybe they sent themselves to space like we did.”

Sakura mouths the word, “no.”

“Madara’s plan to use the moon—what if it never accounted for aliens living on it?” He muses.

He pauses in thought.

“What if there are _ninjas_ living on the moon? Would they be affected or would they break Madara’s genjutsu?” He wonders.

“Alright, that’s enough idiocy out of you,” Sakura snaps. “That door is about to break, we do not have time to worry about your moon ninjas.”

“But—”

He’s interrupted as the door smashes into the wall and their explosion tags go off.


	3. I Dream of Bleach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A what if? for Bleach. The entire chapter is Bleach.

Sakura and he are friends, bonded together over a similar history, yet rarely do they reminisce on a life gone past. Sometimes it seems to be an old scar; something that’s there but forgotten about.

On those rare occasions the topic comes up, their conversations are turned into a solemn affair and hushed whispers.

Only once do they talk about the different places they could have woken up in. That particular conversation lasts hours.

Sakura brings up all the different stories she remembers, and then it’s his turn to dredge up those old memories.

He goes over all the ones he used to read, to watch, to play. One particular story sticks out, and Sakura has to stop him from rambling on and on about it.

He’s surprised that he remembers so much about a story about an afterlife filled with violence and corruption.

He blames her when he starts dreaming about his old self waking up somewhere else, as someone else, never having opened his eyes to Konoha.

-*-

“Stop crying.”

He blinks through his tears and wonders, what? Since when had he been crying?

Actually, no, who said that?

He turns towards the voice only to find a giant of a man standing over him. There is a huge “69” tattooed onto his chest, and eyes shadowed by silver hair glare down at him.

It’s kind of scary, but the guy seems more concerned than angry. He hiccups and stares up at the man.

“There, see? No reason to keep the water works going,” the man says, satisfied.

There is a moment of silence as he tries to figure out what’s going on.

“Kensei!” An annoyingly shrill voice calls.

“Mashiro, where were you?” The man, Kensei barks.

“In the bushes,” a tiny woman pops up from the bushes next to them clutching something.

“I found this!” The woman, Mashiro exclaims, “See!”

She brings up a black robe, and he stops listening. There is something vaguely familiar about this, and he’s starting to realize something is truly, terribly wrong.

He makes a list:

For one, his balance is off. His body doesn’t feel right.

A moment of observation allows him to figure out the man isn’t a giant. His body has somehow shrunk. The small, thin hands tip him off.

Secondly, he’s in a forest instead of a sprawling city. He has no idea where he is. He is not known to sleepwalk.

Thirdly, he’s wearing some sort of kimono-thing as are the people around him.

Fourthly—and this one might just be all in his head—it’s possible he’s hearing and understanding Japanese. He’s not completely sure about that one.

It’s enough to make his head hurt.

Even though he’s busy making observations, he can still make out the conversations going on around him. He thinks he hears the words, “Soul Reaper” and “Sereitei,” but that may just be his imagination.

Weren’t Soul Reapers a big thing in—

He’s pulled out of his musings by a shadow. He looks up.

“Kid, go home. You understand?” Kensei orders before marching off.

He blinks and realizes he’s alone. He watches the man’s back grow smaller and wonders exactly what “home” is supposed to mean.

Unable to think of anything better to do, he turns on his heel and walks.

And walks and walks. Nothing around him looks familiar in the slightest.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, or what his game plan is. He keeps moving forward even when night falls.

He thinks he’s getting hungry, but it feels odd, muted somehow. The last thing he sees is a town before his legs give out on him.

He blinks and suddenly everything is different.

He sits up and realizes he’s been placed in a—futon? Is that what it’s called?

He doesn’t recall making it into town before he fell, and he doesn’t remember wandering into a Japanese-styled house.

“Are you well, child?” An old woman says, looking at him from across the room, as if he’s about to spontaneously combust.

He takes a moment to think about things.

“No,” he says honestly.

“You were found unconscious near my house,” the old woman tells him, waiting.

It’s not exactly a surprise. He knows he was mentally and physically fatigued by the time he fell unconscious.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t.

“Well, child, you may stay here for as long as you need to recover, but I have no room for leeches,” she says finally.

He wishes his body wasn’t so small or so young. He hasn’t been a child for a long time.

He especially hates to be treated like a particularly dim one when he asks about food. His savior educates him about the necessities of the world full of reproach and scorn.

He’s dead, for one.

He’s in the afterlife, and the old lady tells him he’s probably just arrived. He learns he’s not supposed to have memories of his life from before, and he’s glad he’s kept his mouth mostly shut.

Food is not needed here, she tells him next. Supposedly, he’s not hungry.

Try telling his stomach that, he thinks sourly.

The old lady is sympathetic to his amnesiac plight but only to a point. He has to work to make up for being housed.

He cleans and cleans until he thinks his tiny, little arms are going to give out. She throws him out onto the streets when he’s done enough.

Not once did she ask him for his name.

Maybe he should be feeling hurt, but he’s been around to know better than to see the good in people.

Fortunately, he’s quick at learning. He remembers how to throw a punch and gets left alone for the most part.

Food, he finds, is as scarce as people’s good will. Violence and sex go hand in hand, and material possessions are a myth.

District 69 is no joke.

(Something inside of him is telling him he’s missing the joke)

There’s one thing that bothers him as he goes about surviving, something that keeps coming up whether he likes it or not.

He doesn’t have a name to go with the new body he’s found himself in.

His old name doesn’t feel right and neither do any new names. To his surprise, he finally finds out what his name is a few days later.

(That niggling sense of familiarity is getting stronger)

It happens on the day he’s biting into a hard-earned piece of fruit. Two children approach him out of the blue.

He can’t tell you their names, or what they looked like. So plain and uninteresting are these children. They are taken aback that he doesn’t remember them.

“But Shuhei, we’re your friends,” they tell him, despair written on their tiny faces.

He shrugs.

They tell him the name of his body, Shuhei Hisagi. They practically plead for any shred of recognition.

He has to bite back the urge to tell them to get lost. As far as he’s concerned, Shuhei’s gone replaced by someone who can’t pretend otherwise.

They tell him of the monster attack and the death of their other friends.

“I don’t really remember anything. Trauma, I guess. Sorry,” he says detachedly.

It’s as much an apology as it is him trying to get these strangers to leave him alone. Thankfully, they give up after two days of begging him to be someone else.

He’s never felt more grateful for being alone. These children don’t deserve to know that one more of their friends is dead.

That and their high-pitch voices were getting annoying.

He spends many years in a haze. It’s a mixture of doing what he can to survive and ignoring all his problems.

He learns to be both kind and cruel, to read the situation and react accordingly. Moving through districts is a challenge but not if you make the right connections.

He becomes a person that is all at once brave and cowardly.

Fighting becomes such a part of him that he actively seeks it out when he’s bored, yet he disappears the moment someone mentions “Soul Reaper.”

It’s not that he’s scared of these so called Soul Reapers; it’s more that he fears what they represent.

He’s gotten very good at repressing memories from his previous life, but every time he hears the words “Soul Reaper” “Soul Society” “Rukongai” or “Seireitei” he can’t stop the whispers in the back of his head.

It’s not until he gets into a shouting match with a Soul Reaper in District 40 that he realizes he can no longer run from it.

If only because the Soul Reaper in question kidnaps him and forces him into the Soul Reaper Academy without his consent.

(He forever remains confused over how an argument about food leads to being slung over the man’s shoulder and forced into Seireitei)

No one bats an eye as he’s taken to a small room, or when he’s dropped to the ground like a rotten sack of potatoes.

“New applicant, show us why you should be accepted into the Spiritual Arts Academy.”

He blinks up at what he guesses are his exam proctors before looking back at the Soul Reaper who kidnapped him.

“Show them,” the Soul Reaper orders.

Show what, he wants to ask. The hell I am, he wants to say next.

He settles on making a confused face instead.

There’s an uncomfortable atmosphere as the three people overseeing his test glance at each other in silence. The Soul Reaper takes a deep breath before pointing at him.

“Your face is hideous, and your hair looks like a boar’s,” the man says.

He feels his eye twitch.

“Strawberries are awful and should be thrown out,” the Soul Reaper sneers.

A deep stab of anger slides through him. Apparently their argument isn’t over.

“The _hell_ they should be you privileged, over-grown _ape_ ,” he snarls.

Though why the Soul Reaper felt like having this argument in front of the Academy examiners he doesn’t know.

“We should replace them all with persimmons,” the man utters.

The familiar feeling of rage settles onto his shoulders like a well-worn blanket. He can feel himself falling into the calm state he gets when it’s time to fight.

“Draw your sword,” he tells the Soul Reaper, “you’re going to need it.”

He expects hostility. He expects the fight of his life. To his confusion the Soul Reaper instead glances past him with a smug look.

“Applicant accepted, please fill out your form.”

He blinks. What?

It doesn’t sink in when he’s shoved into the main hall for orientation. He’s still in shock when someone shoves a uniform and a practice sword into his arms.

He follows his guide mutely to his dorm room. He doesn’t have a roommate yet, he’s told, but that’ll probably change by tomorrow.

A stack of papers are given to him, and he finds himself standing alone in his new room. Throwing everything onto the floor, he sinks onto his new bed and laughs.

He’s Shuhei Hisagi, and he lives in a manga book. He’s going to be a Soul Reaper.

He laughs until he cries.

He doesn’t know how he ended up in Hisagi’s body, or how he ended up in Soul Society. He certainly doesn’t ever remember wanting to be a Soul Reaper.

He only lets himself freak out that one night. Come morning, he reads through his papers, dresses into his uniform, and ties on his sword by following the instructions.

He’s going to learn, and he’s going to survive.

The Shinigami Academy turns out to be more fun than he thought possible. He’s always hated school, but what he learns here is actually interesting.

As a bonus, it offers badly needed structure to his life. He takes to learning in a way he never has before.

He goes through his textbooks eagerly, asks questions, and manages to pay attention to most lectures. It’s bizarre, but he’s able to sharpen his mind as well as his body.

His fighting skills aren’t anything to sneeze at, but they’re rough. The Academy refines his movements into something far more elegant. His classmates learn to fear sparring with him.

Out of all his classes, Kido is the one he was most excited for. His enthusiasm wavers when he realizes he’s not very proficient in it. While Kido is still interesting, it turns out swordsmanship is where his talents truly lie.

The fear his classmates have for sparring with him soar to new heights when he figures this out.

There’s nothing better than crossing blades, he finds. Fighting dirty and getting away with it is even better. He can’t stop the thrill that goes through him, and he doesn’t want to.

He can hear whispers of “11th division for sure” being made behind his back, but he pays them no mind. He concentrates only on getting stronger and faster.

At the rate he’s moving, it’s only a matter of time before he unlocks his Zanpakuto.

When he does, he’s surprised to find himself with Kazeshini.

Even though he’s Hisagi-but-not, he expected to get a different spirit sword. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t share the same soul as Hisagi, but maybe they’re just that compatible.

It also turns out learning to hear his Zanpakuto is completely different from getting to know the spirit sword. Kazeshini is—well.

The spirit is nothing like he was expecting. The Zanpakuto spirit is dangerous as he is frightening.

Kazeshini only resembles the traditional grim reaper; the spirit enjoys cutting and severing in a way a personification of death never could.

It takes him a while before he’s comfortable accepting Kazeshini completely, but when he does it feels right. He should probably be scared, but...

You can’t really run from yourself.

(He finds himself needing a counterbalance to the bloodlust. He goes picking through the propaganda until he finds something that resonates with him. He finds it in the word “Protector.” He likes the sound of it)

One day, when going through a list of squads and their captains, he spies an older version with captains that have been removed.

He thumbs through it and freezes. He recognizes one them.

9th division, Captain Kensei Muguruma.

It’s the man who was there when he first appeared in this world, and who had apparently saved his body beforehand.

He has no doubt about where Hisagi’s tattoo came from and why he would have aimed for the 9th division.

He is not that Hisagi.

He admires the man certainly, but it was the other Hisagi who’d been saved. In another life, it would be that other Hisagi who would wear the infamous number.

He refuses to get the tattoo.

He studies hard and four years pass by without incident. Well, maybe not completely without incident.

He doesn’t get a fancy nickname, but he’s well known for his love of saying whatever he feels like and backing it up with fists or swords.

He doesn’t ever say anything he doesn’t mean, but he doesn’t go out of his way to antagonize either. He makes no friends, but he makes no enemies even with the constant fighting.

It’s a gift.

The Academy is truly a blessing. He’s no longer scavenging to survive; he’s no longer worried about what tomorrow will bring.

It does have one little side effect though. Kazeshini is an ever-present force that whispers death and sings songs of blood in the back of his head.

It’s an interesting life if nothing else, and he settles into being Shuhei.

He changes his mind at graduation; he gets the tattoo.

It’s not that he believes he has to. He just finally understands. It takes the entire time he’s in the Academy, but he realizes he is Shuhei Hisagi.

It seems stupid it took him that long to realize that.

He owes his life to a Soul Reaper who associates himself with a number. It’s not a debt he can pawn off on someone else.

Of course, it makes his decision easier knowing there is absolutely no social stigma around the number, “69.”

Or, you know, tattoos.

Apparently Soul Society is frozen in time, a time where tattoos haven’t been used for criminals and gangs. He considers getting more before deciding against it for now.

He’s got all the time in the world to get as many tattoos as he likes.

The 11th division seeks him out before he even makes an application. They send a huge group to test his fighting prowess, and it goes swimmingly—at first.

The moment he uses a low-level Kido spell to mess up one of the 11th member’s motor skills, is the moment that it all goes downhill.

The test comes to a screeching halt as the group of men act like a bunch of offended peacocks.

He feels that familiar form of anger settle over him the moment they start scolding him as if he was some misbehaving child.

“Sorry,” he tells them, “it’s not going to work out.”

He rubs a finger over Kazeshini’s blade fondly.

“I love fighting,” he confesses, “but I’m going to fight my own way.”

His smile is all teeth.

“And I’m not going to let a bunch of no-brain, no-ball _bitches_ tell me what to do.”

The fight these words start is almost legendary. Kazeshini laughs in his head as he cuts them all down. He doesn’t make it to the 11th, but he thinks he sees fear in their eyes when he’s near. It cheers him up.

He ends up applying to the 9th. It’s not because of Kensei or a desire to follow a script. He simply wants to be a protector, and the 9th division specializes in protecting.

He comes to regret his decision shortly after he’s accepted.

Tosen Kaname is—well, he’s certainly…something.

They don’t get along. At all.

It’s true he’s Hisagi, but he’s more than that. He’s bloodthirsty, highly-opinionated, and completely sure of himself.

Tosen doesn’t like him; he’s not a good fit for the ideals of the 9th division, he’s told.

Still, even with his strong connection to his inner self, he’s tempered by the desire to protect and uphold the laws of Soul Society.

They reluctantly find an even ground. Captain Tosen keeps his distance, but promotes him to 5th seat when it becomes clear he’s too competent not to be a seated officer.

Thing is, even though he’s currently ranked as 5th seat, everyone treats him as if he’s the Vice-Captain. There is an unfortunate reason for that.

It’s weird, but no one in this division seems to have it together.

Captain Tosen is blind. Dictation requires more time than anyone is willing to give. Not only does the Captain’s paperwork have to get done, but so does _every single shred of paperwork in existence_.

The other divisions send their paperwork onward to the 9th to get processed, and no one seems to be able to handle it.

3rd seat, Yoshitoshi Fujita, is a brilliant tactician and can formulate strategies in a heartbeat. 4th seat, Ako Amari, is as much a warrior as she is a philosopher and poet. Both of them deserve their seats and somehow manage to get along well with the Captain.

Thing is—

Paperwork? Regulations? Meetings? _Social_ _interaction_?

They are so wildly incompetent, it’s enough to make one cry.

There is no Vice-Captain, and the 3rd and 4th seat are useless, so naturally it all falls to him. If he gets a bit cranky, well, that’s just part of life.

(9th division have learned to fear him, but it also seems to garner him a fair bit of respect; it’s rather confusing)

Time passes seemingly without end, and when he hears that a certain Kuchiki has gone missing, everything goes black.

He opens his eyes and groans.

Akamaru gives a yawn and a good morning, and he gives a sleepy reply before wiping at his eyes.

He can smell breakfast cooking. Sounds of aggravated yelling are coming from downstairs. He takes a moment to soak it all in.

This is home, he thinks. He can’t stop the grin spreading across his face.

No more paperwork, thank the Spirit King, _no more paperwork_.


	4. Illusionary Castle

His head’s leaning against something hard, and there’s an uncomfortable amount of fabric wrapped around him. He opens his eyes to the sight of green hills rolling past.

He blinks and picks his head up off the window. Sakura sits across from him clad in a black robe and arms full of books. She stares back at him, biting her lip. Akamaru lies next to her and gives a low whine.

“Sakura,” he growls.

“I’m sorry!” Sakura wails back.

He huffs and looks around. They sit in what looks like an old-fashioned train compartment. Huge chests loom above their head, shifting somewhat threateningly. Sitting next to him is—

“So she got you too, Shino,” he sighs.

The bug-user sits straighter than normal, clearly uncomfortable. Shino wears a black robe with a high collar that hides the lower half of his face. Sunglasses shine back at him.

“I was unaware that such a seal contained a high-level genjutsu, or that it was capable of ensnaring multiple targets under a single illusion,” Shino says, eyebrows furrowed. “Furthermore it appears the genjutsu connects our minds in order to build and experience the same illusion. It is possible that the combination of our chakra strengthens the genjutsu and requires each of us to break the illusion in a specific manner. As such, I am unable to end it at this time.”

His teammate sort of just wilts. It’s very slight, but he can tell the Aburame is stressed out. Moving slowly, he pats Shino on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, man,” he comforts. “We’re going to be fine. This isn’t our first experience with this kind of seal.”

He throws Sakura an ugly look.

“And it probably won’t be our last,” he adds dryly.

Sakura sticks her tongue out in response. He rolls his eyes and starts patting himself down for anything useful. The four of them are going to have to play this illusion out until they find the key to leave. Depending on the genjutsu, it might be more of a forced vacation than a nightmare trap.

He finds a note in an inner pocket of his own black robe. The handwriting looks familiar.

“Kiba,” he reads aloud, “remember to be on your best behavior. No peeing on anyone you don’t like. If anyone gives you trouble over Akamaru, go to the headmaster instead of biting them. If anyone teases Sakura for her hair then you can bite them. Same thing if they try to mess with Shino if only to save them from Shino’s wrath. Don’t binge on too much candy and have fun. Love, Sis.”

“Huh,” he blinks, “guess we’re going to school?”

He can’t begin to imagine what kind of school they’ll be going to though. Sakura, Shino, and he are wearing some sort of uniform that seems impractical to fight in.

“I, um, think I know where we’re heading,” Sakura speaks up, giving him an uneasy look. “You see, I think the genjutsu latched onto my brain first, and I was thinking that the seal looked a lot like some sort of mythical rune, so, uh.”

“So?” He prods when she doesn’t continue.

Wordlessly, she holds up a thick book with the cover facing him. He chokes a bit when he sees the title.

_Hogwarts: A History_

“Really?” He asks incredulously. “Sakura, really?”

“That one’s not my fault!” Sakura slouches with a pout. “I used to really love fantasy books you know.”

He looks out the window and tries to bite back the smile he feels coming on. He’s still angry after all. The compartment shakes silently, and he tries to wrap his mind over the fact he’s going to Hogwarts.

A fake Hogwarts crafted from Sakura’s mind and as a ninja but still.

“Alright,” he says after a moment, “Sakura, give Akamaru and Shino a run down on the basics. I’m going to snoop through our stuff and see what we’re starting off with here. I don’t see our wands, so they might be overhead.”

He can feel Shino’s stare dig into him the moment he says wands. He pats the bug-user’s shoulder again before standing up on the seats and jumping.

A quick application of chakra lets him stick to the shelves hanging above the seats; he’s able to rifle through the trunks with ease. Each one has their names written on the inside in his sister’s handwriting.

“Right, well,” Sakura begins awkwardly. “You’re a wizard, Shino.”

He bites a knuckle to keep from laughing. It’s just too perfect.

“A wizard is someone able to channel their magic, a distorted version of chakra, through a focus which is a wand. Instead of hand seals, they use wand movements to mold their, uh, magic,” Sakura explains. “Wizards focus on using techniques for anything and everything, and combat is only a small part. For instance, they, um—”

“Can use a technique to wash dishes for them,” he interjects, trying to stuff his clothes back into his trunk.

“Yes! That,” Sakura latches on with relief. “A lot of spells, their word for techniques, can be used for battle, but most wizard and witches, er, that’s the female version of wizard, mainly use them to just live average civilian lives.”

“And now we’re heading to wizard academy for some reason,” he grunts, falling onto the seat below him. “It’s called Hogwarts, and yes, I know it’s a weird name.”

He holds up three pieces of wood and waves them slightly. Sakura’s eyes light up. Shino just stares.

“We’re going to need these,” he says, throwing them their wands.

Sakura gets an elegant, red wand that shines slightly pink. Shino gets a black wand with intricate designs. His is a simple, reddish-brown one.

He rolls the wand in his hand, examining it. It all feels incredibly real; he can almost believe he’s on a train heading to school. He’s even able to smell the wood, though he can’t guess the type. Genjutsu sure is something else.

Akamaru barks out a question.

“No, you don’t get a wand. You’re not a wizard,” he tells the ninken. “You’re probably going to get called a pet when we get there.”

The tirade that follows is best left untranslated for either Sakura or Shino. He spends the remainder of the train ride working with Sakura to come up with all they can remember. Akamaru sulks the entire time.


	5. Sakura's Side, an excerpt

Konoha’s library is a wonderful place, full of knowledge passed down from generation to generation. While there are clearance levels overseen by seals and sharp-eyed ninja, it’s open to every citizen of the Land of Fire.

She couldn’t hope to find a better place to spend her free time at, especially with an easily bribed teacher willing to get her into the chunin levels.

And yet, she thinks with a frown, there’s nothing here she can use.

Her fingers are dry from flipping over so many pages and unraveling so many scrolls. Hours of skimming over ink for keywords and she still doesn’t see what she’s looking for. She resists the urge to slam the current book against the table.

She doesn’t want to get banned from the library after all.

(The librarians tend to be ninja suffering from mental breaks. Each time an infiltrator gets caught, they get hung up outside by the door with ninja wire, bleeding profusely. Not for being a spy, mind you, but for daring to illegally touch their books)

Looking over at a nearby clock plastered to a wall, she collects the books and scrolls surrounding her with a sigh. The librarian takes them from her, and she does her best to walk out of the library like she hadn’t just spent hours reading with no results to show for it.

Another day wasted and another day closer to the end, she muses bitterly. She doesn’t know how she’s going to tell him. How she’s failed again.

She ends up waiting on a bench, hands clutching her knees nervously. She doesn’t have to wait long.

“Sakura.”

She glances up into a familiar pair of sunglasses.

“Shino,” she greets back.

The Aburame stares down at her, hands in pockets. She can feel her stomach drop. He takes a seat next to her without saying a word, leaving a gap between them. He stares away from her, posture rigid; she wonders if she’ll ever be able to read him.

“Did you find any relevant information?” Shino asks.

“Not yet, but at this point I’m not sure I’ll be able to find anything in time,” she admits with a grimace.  

Shino says nothing to that, and she’s left biting her lip wanting to say something, anything.

“Shino,” she says softly, “even if we find an antidote or another way to counter it, we might not have the means to actually do anything. We’re just genin.”

She hears a slight buzz and thinks her words have riled up the Aburame. She wishes she could take them back, but it’s the truth. She’s just not smart enough, strong enough, old enough.

“We cannot fail, not now,” Shino eventually says, cutting through her wallowing thoughts. “Why? Because Kiba is counting on us.”

“But—”

“Do you not agree that Hisato will activate the poison?” Shino cuts her off, moving to look at her.

“Of course he will!” She snaps out. “He has to know that the only thing we can do is block it with chakra. Which means he knows how to counteract that!”

Her best friend is probably living on borrowed time, and there’s not a damn thing she can do about it.

“I just don’t get it!” She seethes. “How can all the medics just dismiss it as foreign poison and not look into it? It’s not even acting like—”

She stops as sudden realization hits her.

“Not like poison,” she whispers.

Everything around her fades away. A stream of thoughts and ideas rush through her head so fast she can barely register them.

_What if?_

Unthinkingly, she blindly reaches for Shino. Her fingers wrap around his shoulder, and she pulls him with her as she gets to her feet. He doesn’t say a word.

“We’re going to the library,” she announces.

With her hand still on his shoulder, she begins steering Shino back the way she came from.

“I have several ideas and next to no time to experiment,” she tells him. “We might need to bring in one of your relatives on this.”

Shino pulls away from her, but doesn’t stop walking. If anything, she’s forced to pick up the pace to keep up with him.

“I have no doubt my father will agree to provide assistance to whatever hypothesis you are forming. Why? He seems to be interested in my continuing relationships with my teammates.”

She translates that into, “My dad will help because he wants me to have friends.”

“Good,” she says, “let’s go rescue our idiot from his own stupidity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still working on the next chapter for With No Regrets. Been incredibly busy, still busy, but now I think I can manage my time better. This is a small piece that belongs in Through Her Eyes, but not long enough for a chapter.


	6. Illusionary Castle Part 2

Candles hover over his head as foreign faces stare at him in unabashed curiosity. Shino stands to the right of him, stiff and unmoving while Sakura, eyes wide and searching, shifts almost nervously on his left. Akamaru sits at his feet, still pouting.

An extremely old wizard—one Albus Dumbledore—stands over them from atop a raised platform. The noise bouncing off the walls dies down as the man begins speaking.

“Today, we welcome three students from the mysterious land that is Japan. It is a rare privilege for Hogwarts, one I hope will be repeated in the near future.”

“Magical learning in Japan does not start until the thirteenth birthday,” Dumbledore continues, “and so our guests have only begun their studies. They will join our first years for their year here at Hogwarts, and I am sure if you are open to it, they will be more than happy to share their own experiences in their country’s education.”

He stops paying attention when it becomes clear that the man will continue talking. He’s got three teammates listening to every word, and he honestly couldn’t care less. He takes deep breaths, eyes roaming over the Great Hall. Children stare back at him; some are older than him, yet are somehow younger at the same time.

The table with red and gold decorations grabs his attention. He finds himself looking into narrow eyes behind thick, round glasses. He offers a smirk.

“Aburame, Shino,” the witch with the pointy hat suddenly calls.

He turns to his teammate expectedly. Shino doesn’t move, and he bumps his shoulder against the Aburame’s. Shino gives him a look before staring pointedly at the Sorting Hat held in the witch’s grip.

“Get it over with, man,” he says while Akamaru barks out a laugh.

Shino makes the slightest of twitches before striding towards the stool in front of them, robes billowing dramatically. The Aburame makes no move to sit down even as the witch starts making stern gestures. Exasperated, the witch finally places the hat onto Shino’s head.

“Slytherin!” The Sorting Hat yells out after only a few seconds.

Clapping in the Great Hall is weak and hesitant. Shino does not head towards the Slytherin table, instead moving back to the original spot beside him. No one makes a fuss about it, so he guesses Shino’s in the clear.

“Haruno, Sakura,” the witch says next.

Unlike Shino, Sakura all but runs to the stool. He thinks he hears a quiet squeal the moment she passes him. Akamaru makes a dry comment as Sakura straightens out her robes before taking a seat on the stool.

“Yeah,” he snorts down to his partner.

“Ravenclaw!” The Sorting Hat shouts after a minute’s deliberation.

Sakura, proud and red-faced, beams at him as the witch lifts the hat off her head. She practically struts back to them, head held high. He’s starting to wonder if this sealing accident was really an accident.

“Inuzuka, Kiba.”

He walks up to the stool, Akamaru at his heel. The witch’s lips thin at the ninken. He reminds himself that it’s an illusion and doesn’t bother reacting. He takes a seat. He manages to keep his composure until the hat slides over his eyes.

_Well, now. Another tough one, eh?_

He can’t stop the wide grin from forming. Put me where things will be the most interesting, he thinks.

_Loyalty drives you. Enough courage to be called reckless stupidity. A surprising amount of ambition considering._

Hey!

_But if it’s interesting you want, better be—_

“Gryffindor!”

He only has enough time to slide off the stool before a heavily-scarred man with a peg leg barges into the hall. He shares a startled look with Sakura, and he knows exactly when he’s at.

(He marvels over the fact he remembers any of this; he read the books literally a lifetime ago)

In the end, the three of them get their own bedrooms in the wing facing the Forbidden Forest. They’ll also be taking classes together. He’s not too sure an exchange program is efficient when the staff go out of their way to keep the foreigners from interacting with the regular students, but what does he know.

He can’t exactly complain when there’s no one to scream at him for sharing his room with his best friends.

“Well, that was,” Sakura makes a face at her blue tie from the foot of the bed, “something.”

Sitting in the corner, Shino nods in agreement, green tie slung over the chair’s arm. He and Akamaru play a parody of tug of war on the floor with his own red tie.

“Things are going to get pretty interesting from here on out,” he says as Akamaru lets go of the cloth without putting too many holes in it.

Sakura’s brow furrows as she taps a nail against her wand. He knows what she wants to say just as he knows she can’t say it until those silencing seals go up.

Illusion or not, it still plays by the rules governed by the world’s laws. If they want a peaceful time, they’re going to have to pretend it’s real until they find the keys to the exit.

Still—

“I really wanted to see a quidditch match,” he pouts.

And I want to throw killing curses, Akamaru grumbles, we can’t all get what we want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/3 Christmas Special! 3 small chapters to save my sanity instead of one average sized one. That said, I'll have the next chapter to With No Regrets posted sometime next week. It...may be the last chapter to the Together to the Future series if net neutrality disappears. In which case, it was an honor!


	7. Illusionary Castle Part 3

His eyes crack open against his will. Akamaru is curled up next to his stomach, and he smells Sakura and Shino even as his face is buried into a fluffy comforter. Though it takes him a moment, he recalls exactly where he’s at.

He rolls over with a grunt; Akamaru huffs at the movement. Sakura lets out a sleepy grumble from the bed above him, and the rustle of cloth next to him tells him that Shino is awake.

Vacation day two, Akamaru quips.

“Vacation, right,” he says, stumbling towards the window.

He pulls back the curtain only to dodge as a pillow sails towards his head. A second pillow nails him in the arm, and he rubs at the spot with a wince. Sakura definitely uses chakra to enhance her throws.

They wipe the sleep out of their eyes, help each other with their uniforms, and head to the Great Hall for breakfast.

He almost starts heading towards the Gryffindor table, but Sakura grabs his shoulder and steers him towards the Hufflepuff table.

“We’re eating together at the very least,” Sakura tells him.

He shrugs and walks over to the yellow decorated table. He grabs an empty seat at the end. Sakura slides next to him, and Shino stares at the boy sitting across from him until the poor kid moves away in a hurry.

The rest of the children at the table look on with wide eyes. A few of the older students seem to want to say something only to be at a loss. He grabs a plate of bacon and throws it onto the floor for Akamaru.

“So, how are we doing this?” He asks, helping himself to some ham.

“We’ll get our schedules when the professors hand them out, remember?” Sakura says, reaching for a biscuit.

“No.” The difference in cooking grease causes him to take a napkin to the slice of ham.

Shino makes no move towards anything on the table. He reaches over and loads Shino’s plate with something that looks like bread and gravy.

“Still got to eat, even here,” he chides. “Just enjoy the sensations.”

Shino’s glasses shine back at him dryly to let him know that the Aburame is absolutely not enjoying the sensations in any capacity. He offers up a glass of juice in a mockery of a toast.

The continually exasperated witch from the Sorting Ceremony gives them their schedules and a small lecture he pays no attention to. Akamaru, tired of being treated as a pet, jumps on the table to grab some pumpkin juice resulting in a much longer lecture.

That aside, the first few days of classes goes pretty well.

_“Mr. Inuzuka, stop throwing the matches at the wall! No, I don’t care if you’re testing the pointiness!”_

_“Mr. Aburame. How? No, why did you? It was only theory!”_

_“Ms. Haruno, put down that plant!”_

_“Mr. Aburame, you must at least try to ride the broomstick! And Mr. Inuzuka, leave the dog off the broomstick! No, I don’t care if he wants a ride too!”_

He tries to find the fun in learning magic, but all the lectures and note-taking makes his eyes glaze over; he ends up leaving it to Akamaru. The ninken finds the lessons fascinating and winds up dictating the homework for him.

The sheer amount of homework is the reason he’s sitting in his bedroom writing instead of out exploring like Shino. He comforts himself with the fact that Sakura is here working too.

And therein lies the problem, Akamaru rumbles beside him. He carefully copies the words onto the parchment secured in his lap on top of a text book. He’s taking care not to snap the quill tip again, but he’s thinking about throwing everything out the window.

It’s not like it matters; this world’s a creation of genjutsu.

“Hey,” Sakura says softly from the desk.

He pauses in his ink-scratching. Akamaru makes a quizzical sound for him.

“You ever,” Sakura hesitates, turning in the wooden chair to face him, “feel like these illusions are a little too real?”

He sets the homework aside and stretches. He knows what she means. This is the most real genjutsu he’s ever encountered, and considering his teacher is Kurenai-sensei, that means something.

“Genjutsu is supposed to feel like that,” he reminds her. “It feels real, but it’s not.”

“Yes, but the thing is,” Sakura bites her lip, “I’ve never tasted these foods before. I’ve never had treacle tart, and I doubt our seal maker know what that tastes like either.”

He thinks about all the new tastes and smells he’s experienced. Genjutsu can manipulate the mind to astounding degrees; it’s most likely the brain being tricked into believing these are new sensations.

Still, there’s just enough to doubt simply because he knows it’s possible to wake up in someone else’s body.

“Treat it like it’s real until we get out of here?” He proposes.

It’s not any different than what they’ve been doing after all.

“Deal,” Sakura says.

“Guess I can’t skip out tomorrow,” he picks up his homework assignment with a sigh. “Me and Shino have Potions tomorrow.”

The odors from the room alone are going to hurt. He’ll probably leave Akamaru in the room to spare his partner that misery.

Sakura stills suddenly.

“Oh no,” she whispers, “Shino’s in Slytherin.”

“So?” He tilts his head.

“Shino’s head of house is Snape,” Sakura waves a hand for emphasis.

He still doesn’t get it. He doubts anything short of Voldemort could shake the Aburame’s composure.

“It’s not like Snape will do anything to his own,” he says.

Sakura makes a face.

“Kiba, you are Gryffindor to the bone,” she tells him. “You are loud and have trouble paying attention. There is no Potter in your class to take the heat. He’s going to be going after you.”

He thinks about that for a moment. He remembers what Shino’s like.

“Oh,” he says blankly, “oh no.”

“This had better be nothing more than an illusion,” Sakura says with thin lips, “for this world’s sake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 3 Christmas Special!
> 
> (Shameless plug: if you like RvB go read _we are a woven thread, find the strand_ by _illumynare_ I did the artwork for it!)


	8. Illusionary Castle Part 4

Potions goes pretty much how he thought it would.

Well, he didn’t think Shino would make the professor faint in the middle of class using poison-tipped kikaichu, but it’s close enough to what he bet Sakura.

It begins the moment the professor bangs open the door and flies into the room like an overgrown bat wearing the world’s most irritating perfume. He rolls his eyes during Snape’s opening speech, catching the man’s attention.

The professor only has time to make a few pointed remarks and a threat of using Akamaru as a test subject before the man collapses, head banging loudly on the stone floor.  He uncurls his fists and stares down at the body swallowed up in black robes.

He looks to his left; Shino’s glasses shine back, and he’s reminded that the Aburame has access to the Slytherin common rooms. He wonders how many Slytherins will end up in the Hosptial Wing by the month’s end.

(The room is silent for an absurdly long time before the children start freaking out; it’s hilarious)

Snape doesn’t end up dying that day or any other if only because Sakura and he are running interference. It’s both funny and ironic that the more Snape tries to bully him the more he has to protect Snape from Shino.

He actually misses out on the arrivals of the other schools and the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament because of it. He’s too busy disarming the traps Shino left for Snape, and despite what Sakura claims, it’s not his fault this time.

Akamaru helps him find all the flesh-eating bugs hidden in the potion master’s quarters. He’s searching the man’s dark-colored bedsheets when one jumps into his face. He yelps and backpedals; his feet getting caught on each other. Tripping, he knocks over a glass candlestick balancing precariously on the nightstand.

He ends up planting evidence to frame a particular nasty seventh year Slytherin. Akamaru makes sure they’re in the clear on the other side of the castle before laughing so hard the ninken has to lie down a moment.

He wishes he never made that promise to Sakura; he’s ninety percent sure this is all in their heads, and none of this matters.

It takes prodding from the teachers to stop eating in the kitchens, but he does eventually get to see the tournament’s entry cup inside the Great Hall. He finds the Goblet of Fire to be incredibly striking even though he can’t figure out why.

(He wishes the Beauxbatons and the Durmstrang students would stop with the “mysterious Japanese” excitement; he just wants to look at the Goblet in peace)

The cup occupies his thoughts for hours, and sticks to the back of his mind when concentrating on something else. It’s aggravating. It almost feels like his subconscious is trying to tell him something.

A thought hits him.

“Hey,” he looks at the ceiling of their shared bedroom, “think this is one of those illusions where if you die in it, you die for real?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sakura and Shino both lower their wands, stopping their dueling practice.

“Probably,” Sakura narrows her eyes, “why ask?”

“I think I might know what my part of the key is,” he replies, still looking at the ceiling.

“And that is?” Shino’s gaze digs into him.

“The Tri-wizard Tournament,” he says.

Sakura and Shino share a look. Akamaru just sighs and starts wondering if all dragons can breathe fire.

(Yes, he finds out, they do)

He ends up getting a seventh year to enter his name in the dead of night. Using a low level genjutsu to make the student accept a plate of cookies as a bribe, the Goblet of Fire accepts the piece of paper with his name and school written on it.

He’s not the type to put his hands together and cackle, but he tries it out before going to bed. Akamaru tells him he’s hanging out with Shino too much.

Needless to say, Inuzuka Kiba and Akamaru from Konohagakure Academy get called right after Harry Potter.

_“Did you put your name in the Goblet?”_

_“Yep,” he tells the flabbergasted teachers, “thought it would be interesting.”_

_“Interesting?” A woman, towering over them all, gasps._

_The three rightful champions stare at him, and the boy with messy hair and round glasses gives him an intense look. He flashes them the pointiest grin he can manage. Akamaru barks cheerfully from his feet._

He winds up on the professor’s bad side, but the Hogwarts students all seem to think he’s “cool.” Poor Harry Potter’s name gets dragged through the mud in comparison. Illusion or not, he feels for the kid.

_“Two horntails? What are the odds?” He asks dryly._

_As high as Sakura messing up a seal, Akamaru says._

_“It was short notice!” The fat man holding the bag says, nearly yelling._

_Harry looks between their dragons with a grimace._

_“Think they’ll battle each other?” He asks, holding up his dragon figure._

_Harry snorts as both dragons go from trying to bite their owner’s fingers to the other dragon figure._

It’s exciting fighting a dragon. He can feel his blood rushing as he and Akamaru try to find a way around to the eggs the beast is protecting. It’s difficult to fight a battle without causing injuries, but he’s more than eager for the challenge. Until, he suddenly isn’t.

_“Shino!” He yells, Akamaru huffing tiredly behind him. “I told you I wanted to do it myself!”_

_“You did,” Shino acknowledges, “and though it was an unwise decision on both of our parts, I have heeded your wishes and refrained from interfering in the match.”_

_He blinks._

_“But if you didn’t make the dragon fall asleep, then—”_

_He turns and glares at a wide-eyed Sakura. She looks away from him, digging into her robe’s outer pocket._

_“Oh look,” she says at her newly stolen pocket watch, “time for my illegal study group. Got to go!”_

He doesn’t get to be sour about it for too long. Being sorted into Gryffindor comes with one huge benefit. Their parties are amazing. Music is booming, drinks are flowing, and everyone’s laughing.

“Here’s to surviving,” he says with a grin, clinking his Butterbeer bottle with Harry’s.

“Is it okay for Akamaru to drink that?” Harry asks, pointing to the ninken.

He glances towards the center of the room where Akamaru, teeth gripped tightly on a bottle of Firewhisky, is chugging it down to the Weasley twin’s chants.

“He’ll be fine,” he says with a shrug. “Hermione will eventually put a stop to it.”

The sides of Harry’s lips twitch, and they both immediately search for the bushy-haired girl. The prefect is curled up in a chair asleep over in the corner, and it’s definitely not by any natural means.

“So who are you taking to the Ball?” He asks despite knowing the answer.

“Er,” Harry says, face contorting.

Instead of replying properly, Harry takes a long sip from the bottle of Butterbeer. He slaps the boy’s shoulder with a laugh. The two of them really are in the same boat when it comes to dancing.

Akamaru’s fun gets cut short when an angry Hermione awakens and stomps through the party throwing threats of Professor Mcgonagall. The ninken drunkenly swears vengeance on the girl’s books, and he decides it’s time to turn in for the night.

“Later!” He calls over his shoulder, stepping through the painting door with his struggling partner under his arm.

I will destroy all she holds dear, Akamaru hiccups, starting with Hogwarts: A History.

“Not her cat?” He asks, passing the hallway monitors with ease.

Good cat, Akamaru decides, good cats are fine and don’t get ate.

“Good to know, buddy,” he says with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. It's 4 parts. There's another chapter left!


	9. Illusionary Castle Part 5

The days leading to the Yule Ball become a countdown in the back of his mind. It’s not because he has to learn how to waltz or get a date.

He stares at the wreathe hanging on their bedroom door. The decoration is truly hideous; it’s covered in red bows and gold bells with an obnoxious cinnamon scent. He opens the door without the bells chiming.

“I got the sandwiches,” he says, setting the plate onto the desk.

And the dessert, Akamaru adds, nudging a box wrapped in ribbons.

“Good,” Sakura doesn’t look up from the giant catalogue she’s engrossed in, “Shino went to grab some eggnog.”

“He still shaking down the professors’ stash?” He guesses.

“They’re starting to get suspicious,” she nods, “but Shino’s setting the blame on that one Gryffindor.”

Good, Akamaru barks, that one’s annoying.

He snorts and flops onto the desk’s chair. Sakura, lounging on the bed, flips through another page in the catalogue. Akamaru curls up onto their blanket-covered mattress on the floor.

“So,” Sakura starts.

“So,” he says back.

“Who are you taking to the Yule Ball?” Sakura demands, lowering the book.

“Do I have to take anybody? Isn’t Akamaru enough?” He asks, pleading.

You’re not exactly my type, Akamaru barks.

He rolls his eyes at the ninken.

“Yes, you have to or else you’ll be provided with one,” Sakura says. “That’s what you get for being Champion.”

He thinks about it for a moment. That weird girl from Ravenclaw unnerves him, and he’s not sure it would be acceptable to ask Harry Potter no matter how interesting that would be. There is, quite frankly, only two people he can even consider.

“Can I bring two people?” He wonders.

“Polyamory is frowned upon,” Sakura replies instantly, “besides I’ve already got a date.”

It’s a shame that polyamory is considered outrageous even in Konoha. It might be harder work, but multiple people—wait, what?

“With who?” He asks, stunned.

“Victor Krum,” Sakura smirks.

“You stole Hermione’s date?” He gapes.

Akamaru makes a barking laugh as Sakura sets her book down and leans forward. She folds her hands together and gives him a beseeching look.

“Is it stealing if I manipulated events so she never got asked in the first place and instead got the idiot who should have asked her out to begin with to ask her out? If I whisked away a heart-broken man in her place?”

“Yes,” he replies instantly.

She shrugs.

“Then I stole her date.”

He tries to figure out whether it’s the appeal of Victor Krum, who is more in line with Sakura’s personal taste, or an interest in a fictional relationship that has Sakura looking through a dress catalogue.

 He decides he doesn’t really want to know and stops that train of thought right there.

“So, Shino then?” He asks rhetorically.

“Better bring flowers,” Sakura says sardonically, “I think there was a seventh year eyeing him.”

In fear maybe, Akamaru barks.

-*-

The uneasiness hits its crescendo the moment the three of them step in the Great Hall the next morning. Twelve gigantic Christmas trees line the hall. Wreathes and strands of garland magically hang on the wall, and the candles that normally hang above their heads have been switched out for festive ones.

“So,” Sakura says.  

Her face is unreadable as she looks at the towering Christmas trees. He watches small faeries float from tree to tree and understands.

“It’s like being punched in the face,” he agrees, “but at the same time it’s just different enough.”

“On a one-thestral flying sleigh,” Sakura sings sarcastically.

Memories old and buried, but not forgotten, threaten to drown them. Thankfully, everything from the decorations to the songs have been altered enough that it’s not completely overwhelming. Doesn’t stop it from hurting though.

“Let’s,” Sakura hesitates, “let’s just eat in the kitchens, okay?”

He doesn’t argue against it. Shino looks between the two of them with a thoughtful hum. Sakura turns on her heel with a trembling fist. He follows after, not saying a word.

-*-

He waits for Shino to get out of class, tossing a candy cane back and forth with Akamaru to pass the time. It’s the last class before vacation begins, so now’s the best time to make sure he doesn’t have to go to the dance with a transformed clone.

He snags his teammate out of the stream of students the moment the Aburame passes by. He leads Shino away in the opposite direction, Akamaru following silently along.

“Oi, Shino,” he says once they’ve walked a ways, “you’re going to the ball with me, right?”

“If I must,” Shino says, slouching slightly, “though it was my hope that Sakura would engage in this particular festivity with you.”

It’s Shino speak for “I don’t want to go.”

“It’ll be fun,” he says not very convincingly, “very Christmas-y.”

“I do not believe I can fully comprehend this Christmas. Why? It has far too many conflicting philosophies and confusing traditions,” Shino says irritably.

“Just wait until Valentine’s Day,” he grins. “That’s going to be a doozy.”

The Aburame seems to mull over something.

“That is the sexual one, is it not? An absurd day declaring romantic intent. I have no wish to participate in such,” Shino says.

Well, sort of he supposes. Sakura mentioned her late uncle would always give her a box of chocolates on that date, so it might not always be like that. He’s about to tell Shino this when the Aburame says,

“Please do not throw chocolate at me again.”

He barks out a laugh, surprised Shino remembers “Sakura’s surprise Valentine’s Day.” He tosses the candy cane to Shino and promises to throw only that instead.

Asking Shino to the Yule Ball is pretty easy all things considered.

-*-

“And step. And step. And step,” Sakura says, moving with each chant.

He follows her feet with his own, and it’s a struggle to keep up. Each movement she makes is steady and sure; in contrast he thinks he’s getting worse. It feels like he’s back in the academy, still learning how to fight.

“Stop looking down,” Sakura chides, pressing the small of his back.

“I’m not!” He growls.

You are, Akamaru says.

“This is stupid,” he states with a huff.

Sakura, his cruel teacher, moves faster before making new steps she hadn’t before. It gets worse when Akamaru—keeper of the record player apparently—somehow speeds up the music. Sakura forces him to dance around the empty classroom until he’s able to follow properly.

“Hate this. Hate you,” he mutters collapsing to the floor.

“Either I teach you, or you go to the mandatory dance lessons,” Sakura threatens. “You’re lucky I managed to convince McGonagall!”

He is, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. Sakura has taken the burden of teaching Shino and him, but she’s also responsible for getting them in this mess in the first place.

“Does that mean you convinced Snape too?” He wants to see that conversation.

“Shino did,” Sakura says, “I didn’t ask the how.”

It’s probably a good thing when it comes to the Aburame.

“Did you have to order my robes for me too?” He huffs.

“Quit whining. You have no taste, and I’m not going to let you embarrass me,” Sakura tells him. “Tell him, Akamaru.”

She’s right, Akamaru barks, you were going to buy that awful red one.

“You’re lucky you’re not colorblind,” he grumbles, throwing up two fingers at both of them.

Sakura stands over him with hands on hips, giving him a critical look. She lets out a loud sigh.

“So uncouth,” Sakura mutters down at him.

“Why don’t you make it infiltration practice?” She suggests. “Pretend you have good manners and a great smile.”

“I do have a great smile!” He says, wounded.

“Just practice in the mirror,” Sakura says, “and be on your best behavior. I want this night to be magical for Shino.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Not like that!” Sakura blushes. “I meant this is his first and probably only Christmas. We need to make it count!”

Well, he hadn’t really thought of it that way. He supposes he can do his best for Shino’s sake. There won’t be another Christmas after this one after all.

“I’ll make sure to whip your hair in shape too,” Sakura promises. “If we start right now, we’ll make it in time!”

He blanches.

Run, Akamaru tells him.

-*-

He runs his fingers through his limp hair and tries not to stare at it in the mirror. He’s not sure what Sakura did, but it’s soft to the touch.

Is my bow off, Akamaru asks. The ninken is looking in the mirror too.

“Nah, you look just fine,” he replies, going back to dressing.

Sakura, who gave Akamaru a bath for three hours, is responsible for the yellow bow-tie around the ninken’s neck. His partner’s fur is undoubtedly soft too.

I’m off then, Akamaru suddenly says, I need to go pick up my date.

He pauses in buttoning the outer cape of his dress robes.

“What?”

It was a last minute thing, Akamaru points out as if that’s the problem, but she’s really interesting for a human!

He watches as the door to the bedroom magically opens for the ninken. His partner barks a “See you later” and disappears.

“Did Akamaru just ditch me for a girl?” He blinks. “No, wait, how did he manage to ask her without speaking?”

-*-

Sakura and Shino are dressing in their unused rooms, but he doesn’t have to wait long. The door to Shino’s room creaks open first.

“Hey, Shino,” he greets.

The Aburame nods back lower face still hidden, this time by an elegantly designed collar. His teammate’s robes hold no other color than black. The different shades help pull the look together, fittingly giving Shino a powerful appearance.

Sakura’s door opens with a bang, and he raises an eyebrow as she steps out cursing.

“Damn these shoes,” she hisses.

Sakura, despite the pinched expression, looks lovely in a mint colored dress. The elaborate, pointy crystals covering her dress as well as her hair gives him the impression of ready to use weapons.

He makes a mental note to tell her to wear the color more often; it really does look good on her.

“Where’s Akamaru?” Sakura asks, irritation seeping away.

“Grabbing his date,” he answers. “Don’t ask who. I don’t know.”

Sakura opens her mouth before closing it with a puzzled expression. She shares a look with Shino and appears to think better of it.

“If anyone asks,” Sakura slides off her painful looking shoes, “I am wearing magical glass shoes. They are very expensive.”

He bets Sakura will keep her feet covered in a thin layer of chakra all night; how else is the dirt staying off her feet but by invisible shoes? He snorts at the thought.

“Now, Shino, hold out your arm. You’re the guy, so that’s what you do—yes, like that,” Sakura orders, “and Kiba, take his arm since you’re the lady. _Don’t give me any of that, just do it_.”

-*-

Surprisingly, it is the muggleborns, not the purebloods, that are scandalized by his choice of date. He hears the word “homosexual” whispered and is tempted to do something that would _really_ make people gasp.

It would make his teammate uncomfortable though, and fake ignorant children aren’t nearly important as Shino is.

So he sets aside his immature impulses and smiles as charmingly as he can. He fails if the many wide-eyed stares mean anything. He makes a mental note to practice more.

He’s saved from any more interaction as the Champions are called forward. He grabs onto Shino’s arm and lets the Aburame lead him to the dance floor.

He lets go to face his partner for the traditional bow. The two of them clasp hands; Shino’s other hand is on his waist with his own on the Aburame’s upper arm. Shino takes a step, and he follows.

They have danced together so much in preparation that it feels completely natural to move in sync to the sweeping sounds of the grand orchestra filling the room.

It is surprisingly nice now that he’s got the basics down. Dancing with another person is a foreign concept in Konoha, and this will probably be his only chance to experience such a thing.

Shino leads him in a nice, steady pace. There are no crazy moves, no twirls, and definitely no dipping. He almost forgets he’s putting on a show for other people until the music comes to an end.

Shino and he bow to each other once more before moving off the dance floor.

They take a seat at the Champion’s table. Sakura meets them there as does Harry and the other Champions. Awkward silence falls over them.

Sakura smiles and goads the others into talking. He’s too busy looking for Akamaru to pay attention to the conversations going on beside him. He’s trying to filter through all the perfumes and sweat when he hears a forbidding sound.

“I’m sorry, but my hair is natural,” Sakura laughs lightly.

“I shall get some drinks, yes?” Sakura’s date suddenly says.

Victor leaves with Harry and the other Hogwart's Champion nervously following the Durmstrang student’s example.

“Why don’t you get some punch too, Kiba?” Sakura advises. “That’s what good dates do.”

He looks at her smiling face and decides that sounds like a good idea. He has no idea what he’s missed, but he doesn’t miss missing it.

“I’ll go do that,” he declares, retreating from the situation entirely.

Shino sends him a betrayed look for the abandonment. He mentally apologizes and leaves his teammate behind.

He makes sure to wait until a reasonable amount of time has passed before actually pouring some punch. There’s only a tiny amount of alcohol wafting from the bowl, but he supposes it’s better than nothing.

Hey partner, Akamaru barks from behind him.

It surprises him that the ninken managed to get the drop on him. He turns to get a good look at Akamaru’s date. Outfitted in a blue and green dress with peacock feathers trailing behind is—

“Luna?” He gapes. “You left me for the weird girl?”

Luna gives him a dazzling smile from beneath a blue sequin-covered mask.

Be nice to my date, Akamaru barks.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to say that so,” he pauses, “meanly.”

“It’s okay.” Luna says, tilting her head. “Everyone knows you can say whatever you want in dreams. Just make sure to keep it pleasant, so it doesn’t turn into a nightmare.”

He gives Akamaru a look that screams “ _this is your date?”_ before nodding and hastily calling out a goodbye. He clutches the punch tighter and moves to quickly get back to his table.

Shino sits alone, and the table has a small crack in it. He slides the extra cup towards his date and takes in the rest of the ballroom. Several important looking figures are eyeing the two of them like meat on a grill.

His only options out are awkward socializing or dancing. He takes the third option and escapes with Shino into the rose garden. Their robes obtain a light dusting of snow moments after walking outside.

“Plenty warm there, Shino?” He teases as his teammate begins casting a warming charm.

“It’s cold,” the Aburame deadpans.

The Land of Fire isn’t named so for a whim. Snow is a treat, but he can’t wait to get back home where the only thing keeping away a heatstroke is shade.

A slight movement catches his eye. He spots a shiny beetle crawling on the arm of a bench that’s practically hidden from view. It’s as good a place as any, he decides.

He flops down onto the hard wood. He gestures to Shino before snatching the bug up with a swift motion.

“Hey, Shino,” he calls, “let’s sit here for a while.”

He gathers chakra into to tip of his finger and flicks the beetle as hard as he can. It goes soaring into the night; he swears he hears screaming in the distance.

Shino, taking a seat next to him, makes an inquiring hum. He looks up at the stars and tries to gather his thoughts. He makes a little hum himself.

“We never thought we’d see it again,” he says, moving his gaze to a nearby rose, “Sakura and I. This kind of world. These people. Christmas.”

“It’s an illusion based on a fantasy story, but it’s an accurate one. Our world had all these things. I even used to have a small Christmas tree. It was this big,” he brings his hands up, keeping them ten inches apart, “and its tips would change color. It was awesome!”

“Well, for how long I had it anyways,” he drops hands with a frown. “Christmas wasn’t as big for me as it was for Sakura.”

“Guess that’s the difference in family beliefs,” he notes, “though everyone I knew celebrating the holiday wasn’t very religious if I’m remembering right.”

He realizes he’s rambling and tries to get back on point.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m glad you got to see it. That I got to share Christmas with you,” he says, fidgeting.

He desperately hopes that didn’t sound as stupid as he thinks it does. He sort of wishes Akamaru was here right now. The ninken would no doubt be making an acerbic comment. Somehow, the sarcastic quips always seem to help him relax.

Not that there’s anything to be nervous about, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

“Merry Christmas.”

It takes a moment to realize the words come from beside him. He turns to Shino in shock.

“That is what is normally said near the end of the year in Western countries. It is a well-wishing phrase said in the hope that another has a good day on that specific date. That is what my research has indicated.”

He stares at his teammate. The Aburame’s kikaichu are flittering around; he can hear the buzzing.

“Did I perhaps say it wrong?” Shino asks tentatively. “I have not had any prior issues relating to speech as the genjutsu seems to have ensured that our previous language was overwritten with this current one although we may simply be tricked into believing so.”

“No, no,” he waves a hand, “I was just speechless. I haven’t heard that expression aimed at me in forever. Damn.”

He leans back and thinks about how many muggleborns Shino must have talked to. The phrase is mostly uttered between students with a muggle background despite the heavy celebration of the holiday in the wizarding world.

“I do not enjoy being stuck in a hallucination brought on by a seal that was most likely meant to keep the victim trapped in a dream they do not desire to wake from,” Shino says.

He tries not to shift at how familiar that sounds. He might have an idea on what Sakura could have been researching before setting off the seal that forced them here.

“But I am overjoyed that I can partake in such a meaningful event with you,” his teammate continues. “I had not given much thought to traditions you may have been grieving for.”

He wants to correct Shino, tell the Aburame that grief is too strong a word, but he’s not sure it is. He’s come to terms with parting ways with his old life, but experiencing this illusion is making him feel the loss all over again.

“When we return to our senses,” Shino tells him, “I would not be averse to celebrating Christmas again. We will be the only ones to recognize the true meaning, but perhaps it will be better than nothing at all.”

It’s Shino’s turn to look off in the distance. The snow falls softly in the following silence. He tries to find a way to let his teammate know he’s touched beyond what words can say.

“I’d like that,” he says instead.

He turns the idea over in his head and finds it more appealing by the second. His family, always down for a reason to celebrate, would probably join in haphazardly, and everyone else would accept it as a ninja’s eccentricity.

“Sakura would too, but she’ll probably cry so be prepared for that,” he tells Shino. “Maybe we can get the others in on it too. I’d bet Naruto would have some crazy decoration ideas.”

It sounds good, real good.

“I would request some time to prepare. Why? I have not seen these specific variations of trees in our world before,” Shino says, “but that does not indicate their nonexistence.”

_If it exists, I will find it._

He gives Shino the hugest grin he can manage. He’s not sure how big that actually is; his face is so numb he can’t feel his cheeks. It’s time to go warm up, he thinks.

“Let’s go grab some hot chocolate from the kitchens,” he suggests as an idea strikes him. “Maybe we can find some mix! I’ll show you how my other mom used to make it.”

He jumps up and spins around to Shino, motioning to the other boy to get up impatiently. The Aburame pointedly takes the time to wave another warming charm before standing.

“Finally! Okay, so it involves some salt and hazelnut, but the true secret is vanilla. It’s really good. Like really good.”

He moves his hands excitedly, and Shino leans down to listen to his rambling. They head to the castle, leaving no footsteps in the snow behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we get to that actual Christmas Special! 
> 
> Happy-Whatever-You-Celebrate-Or-Don't and Merry Christmas!


	10. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Modern thought is that every ninja will hit certain milestones in their life; events that shape and sharpen the tools of the village. Sometimes these living weapons end up breaking, and sometimes they’re forged into something truly beautiful.

It’s not clear to her at first, but she undergoes a milestone before she’s even able to channel chakra. She doesn't remember what life was like before she turned three years old, but she definitely recalls what came after.

It happens the moment Mama wakes her for breakfast.

“Ino, darling, time to get up,” her mother says, reaching out to her blanket-covered form.

She opens her eyes and looks up to the woman gently shaking her who had, at that moment—at that time—felt like a complete stranger to her.

“Who’s Ino?” She remembers saying.

Her mother’s shocked, distraught face will haunt her for the rest of her life.

The woman screams for Inoichi, and everything spins out of control. Many strange people rush into the room with weapons in hand and tight faces. They start asking her questions she doesn’t know the answers to, and a man with the palest face she’s ever seen grabs her by the shoulders.

“Ino,” the man says lowly, “Ino, darling, what do you remember?”

His trembling hands ends up shaking her entire body. Only now does she realize she’s in a room filled with giants. She feels the world slide away from her; she’s on the verge of a panic attack.

“I’m Abby,” she says through numb lips, “please don’t hurt me.”

The man shaking her lets out a low wail. His grief hits her as if it was a physical object slamming into her, and she passes out.

Needless to say, it doesn’t go any better when she comes to. The woman from earlier, her mother, is the only reason she doesn’t end up fainting again.

“She’s brimming with chakra,” she hears whispered. “Did she switch with another?”

Similar things are uttered over and over again in the next couple of days. She has no idea what they mean, not yet.

They confine her to the room she woke up in. She keeps the blanket over her head and pretends she’s somewhere else. She thinks desperately of a mattress on the floor with dirty, white walls.

It works only until she starts fondly remembering wooden floors and straw mats she’s never had.

“Drink,” the woman who won’t leave her alone says, handing her a cup, “drink, Ino, _please_.”

She carefully takes the cup. Her fingers are ridiculous; they are incredibly dexterous and strong for being so small.

“Not plum juice,” she wrinkles her nose at the smell, “I hate that!”

“Ino?” Her mother gasps.

“I'm Abby,” she remembers answering, “but I’m Ino too.”

She didn’t know what she was saying at the time, but all it ends up doing is opening up new, terrifying doors for her.

“Am I speaking to Ino or Abby?” Her father starts asking her. “How old are you?”

It’s small, but the questions begin tearing her into two. On one side of her mind is Ino. She’s three years old, eager to grow up strong, and a bit of a spoiled brat. On the other side is Abby; a twenty year old woman who still feels like a small, terrified girl.

The divide between them becomes larger as time passes. The clan—psychics, Abby dubs them—tries to get her to reconcile with her other half even as they begin teaching her the family business.

It’s too late for reconciliation: Abby believes this is nothing more than a coma-fueled dream, and Ino bears the brunt of her callousness.

The clan starts her on weapons training and martial arts, far too wary to teach her anything about chakra.

Crazy, violent psychopaths, Abby spits.

My family, Ino thinks defensively, _mine_.

It gets harder to think as Ino starts forming her own self, independent of Abby. There are whispers of keeping her from the academy, and even her own father talks about passing her over as clan heir. Too unstable, too unknown, she hears.

Good, Abby mutters darkly, I don’t want it.

But I do, Ino thinks desperately, I want it!

Ino is, at heart, a spoiled brat who gets what she wants. Not even her own mind will deny her this, she swears.

I will be a ninja, she tells herself. I will be clan heir.

You don’t know what you’re doing, her other half snarls. You’re only four!

She ends up going to her father with Abby fighting her every step of the way. She finds him in his “not-an-office” room, looking over papers with a tired eye.

“Darling?” Papa asks, using the endearment when he’s unsure to whom he’s speaking to.

Her tongue struggles to obey her, and for a moment she thinks it’ll end up choking her, but she manages to blurt out,

“Can you get rid of Abby?”

The papers fall to the floor, and her father’s face twists into one of shock. She’s wrapped up in her Papa’s arms before she can say anything else.

She ends up getting a “We’ll see,” but she’s Ino. It’s as good as done, and she has no regrets even as Abby curses her name.

It takes another week before anything comes of it. It feels like forever, and she makes sure to tell her father so whenever she sees him.

All of her knows it’s over when she winds up clutching her mother in the Fancy room that’s used to entertain guests. She sits across from a beautiful man with knowing eyes and sees The End.

“My name is Akiyo,” the beautiful man says with a gentle voice. “I’m here to help you.”

Wolf, wolf, Abby cries. Beware!

Ino looks at him with considering eyes. She lets go of her mother’s sleeve.

“What do you need?” She asks.

The man gives her a gentle smile.

“We can have some tea,” Akiyo tells her, “and we’ll just talk.”

Lies, lies, all of him lies, Abby chants.

“Mama can make some,” she nods even as Abby screams murder in her head.

Mama frowns at Akiyo before giving her a worried look. She wonders if her mother can hear Abby’s frightened pleading.

Giving Akiyo a look, Mama gently pets her head and leaves. She ignores the hushed conversation at the door to study the man in front of her.

Please, Ino, Abby gasps, that man is not what he seems!

She ignores her and drags Akiyo into an interrogation masked as polite conversation, just as she’s been taught to. Akiyo, a Yamanaka as well, indulges her with amusement.

Mama comes back with steaming cups of tea. There is no teapot, and her mother leaves again. She grabs the teacup and wrinkles her nose at the unpleasant plum smell wafting out.

The voice in the back of her head howls something fierce, but she’s never felt more at peace. Abby screams and cries. She doesn’t want to die, she shouts, and begins calling Ino a murderer.

She taps a fingernail against the rim of her cup and smiles.

You called me a killer, she thinks to herself, and I am.

“Let’s get started,” she says, tossing the cup back.

She knows something was added to the tea. Still, it’s a big shock when she finds herself going to sleep. She gets a bigger surprise when she sees Abby.

The woman, who thinks she is a girl, cries in front of her. Behind Abby is a hole; one that is deep, dark, and scary. Akiyo’s doing, her mind tells her.

Abby holds out a hand to her, and she takes it in her own. She gives the woman a smile before letting go and shoving her.

There is a piercing scream, and then it is silent. She feels Akiyo wrapping around her gently, and she feels lighter than she can ever remember being.

She wakes to her mother and her father sitting over her, and she hears nothing.

“Papa, Mama,” she sniffles.

They embrace her, and she cries into their clothes. It’s so silent and so wonderful. No more screeching as she grabs a kunai. No more fighting with herself in the mirror.

It’s over, she tells herself.

She made for a terrible Jekyll and Hyde anyway.


	11. Moonlight and Shadows

The moon fades away, hidden by clouds passing by. She feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and Kuromaru lets out a low growl beside her.

Moonless nights are dangerous nights even if only for a second.

She flicks a senbon hidden in her sleeve over her shoulder. Whatever shadow that had been standing there is quick to leave. She snorts contemptuously at such a cowardly act.

This cloak and dagger shit is getting older than the Hokage’s face.

“You think they’d know better than to sneak up on the two of us by now,” she grumbles to her partner.

“They underestimate us,” Kuromaru growls loudly in human speech, “we will not take such insults lightly.”

The sound of light footsteps and the familiar scent she’s been tracking stays her hand from throwing anymore weapons. She finds she’s still tempted to throw a knife anyway.

“I suspect it is the opposite. They believe they cannot take you head on and aim for a killing blow in fear,” is the calm reply to her ninken’s words.

She gives Hiashi a smile that is all teeth and beckons the Hyuuga to take a seat on the blanket next to her. Hiashi makes no move other than to give her a blank stare.

She reminds herself that murdering her allies is generally not a good thing.

“Oi, I invited you out here for a moon viewing,” she says, “get your ass over here and pour some sake.”

“It’s not time for moon viewing,” Hiashi notes, not budging from his insulting position over her. “I didn’t think you actually meant it.”

“Anytime is time for alcohol,” she tells the Hyuuga, “now sit down before I make you.”

Kuromaru backs up her demand with a small growl and a narrowing of the eye.

Hiashi’s mouth opens, no doubt to argue against her, before the Hyuuga’s shoulders slump uncharacteristically. The man settles down gingerly on her blanket. A rush of satisfaction fills her, and she doesn’t fight down the smirk.

“Kid’s got your perfect hair frazzled, huh?” She says, reaching for a sake cup.

The pissy look on Hiashi’s face is amazing. She barks out a laugh and forces the sake bottle into the man’s hands.

“The elders are not happy,” Hiashi says, pouring her a cup with a tight expression.

“Course they ain’t happy,” she says, taking the bottle to pour a cup for the Hyuuga like the civilized lady she is. “You finally pulled your balls out and started being a leader.”

She downs the sake in one gulp and makes a mental note to get stronger stuff next time. Dealing with a Hyuuga feels like being smothered in paint; it might as well taste like it too.

She slides a cup of sake to Kuromaru, who lets out a haughty sniff at the scent. Even her ninken thinks it’s too weak.

“They don’t find it agreeable to live as hostages in their own home,” Hiashi eventually says, carefully not looking at her. “I believe you’d say, ‘They also don’t find it agreeable to have their faces blown off.’ ”

She throws her head back for a laugh.

“So the boy actually used the cream idea?” She chuckles, slapping her knee. “I’d give anything to see the looks on their faces!”

Exploding Hyuuga heads was always something of a fantasy for her. It’s almost upsetting that she missed it.

“Neji was particularly,” Hiashi pauses, “enthusiastic about the situation. I have never seen him so lively.”

She personally believes that’s due to bad parenting on Hiashi’s part, but it’s not any of her business.

“Heard your boy is finally getting over himself,” she says, biting into a piece of cake. “Got it out of his system with that fight with the puppet ninja. Good.”

Hiashi’s eyes do that flicker thing when he’s upset, and she wonders if she can make him do it again.

“You know he is my nephew,” Hiashi tells her stiffly, “and he knows to protect the clan.”

Hiashi has always been the type to say a lot in as few words as possible, as misleadingly as possible. She’s never had the patience to deal with this shit, and that’s never changed.

“You know as well as I do that boy’s your kid,” she tells the Hyuuga, “and the only thing Hizashi would mind is that it took fighting an enemy together with his cousin to stop the crazy.”

Hiashi’s eyes are doing the flicker thing uncontrollably, and she pats herself on the back mentally. Kuromaru’s ears prick up, and she gives the ninken silent permission to pursue with a toss of her head.

Her ninken hunts the prey that would dare intrude on their private talk, and she holds out her cup to Hiashi for another round.

“You are not one to talk about crazy children,” Hiashi says flatly, obliging her with more sake.

She lets out a throaty laugh, almost spilling the alcohol on herself. Hana, her argumentative and proud girl, is definitely not part of the children Hiashi is referring to.

“But mine’s the good kind of crazy,” she grins, “they got it from me after all!”

She’d never imagined having such solid ties outside her own clan after her first team’s failure to bond, but life has a way of surprising her. She’s never been prouder of her boy whose sole mission in life seems to be to make it as interesting as possible.

Her mad scientist of a daughter is only the highlight of what Kiba’s given her.

“I think we’ve seen the moon plenty,” she says as she picks up some new scents on the wind, “it ain’t going anywhere either.”

Kuromaru’s excited howl reaches her from the trees behind her.

“You up for taking out the trash?” She asks, throwing a thumb over her shoulder.

She’s not talking about their little party setup.

Hiashi’s Byakugan is already active. No doubt he already knew about the dissenters circling in on their position this whole time.

“It would be my honor,” Hiashi tells her, mouth curling up by the smallest amount.

She lets out a howl and jumps for the nearest tree. Hiashi follows her after her silently, and she moves to join up with Kuromaru.

She wonders what Hiashi’s face would look like if she took a bite out of one of the Hyuuga’s wayward kinsmen. Maybe if she starts going for the throat with her teeth, she’ll have a chance.

She spots a shadowy figure below her, bares her fangs, and lunges. Kuromaru leaps from the bushes, and she can smell the exasperation rolling off Hiashi.

Who knew hanging out with a Hyuuga could be so much fun?


	12. That One Unwanted Soulmate AU

He wakes up to a bright, new day, if the sun streaming through the window is any indication. Birds chirp in the distant. His bed is neither too soft nor too hard, and his nails have ripped a hole in the sheets like always.

Something about that isn’t quite right.

He muses on it for a moment, enjoying the comfortable atmosphere.

“OI!” The cry of a demon echoes throughout the world, “BOY, YOU HAD BETTER BE UP! DON’T MAKE ME COME GET YOU!”

He rolls out of bed, taking the sheets with him, and smacks into a dresser he most definitely doesn’t own.

“Well. Shit.”

To say his life soon becomes a storm of chaos and dog slobber is an understatement. He takes it for granted that he knows the future of the world he wakes up to as Inuzuka Kiba.

It’s the morning of the first day of school when alarms start going off in the back of his head. He stares at a spot on his right forearm. He wipes at it to see if maybe one of his cousins got creative while he was sleeping.

It doesn’t come off, but it doesn’t smell like paint either.

“Hey, Ma,” he turns to his mother at the breakfast table and lifts up his arm, “what’s this?”

He doesn’t even get the chance to blink before his arm is grabbed, and he’s hauled across the table. Akamaru lets out a concerned squeak from beneath his chair when he starts making pained noises.

His mother pays him no heed and instead twists his arm back and forth as if to see the cause of concern from a better angle.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Ma says, finally letting go of his arm, “that’s early.”

He has to roll off the table to get back to his seat. He sends his mother a wary look while tucking his arm to his stomach.

“What is it?” He asks, gut churning.

“A soul mark,” his mother tells him flatly.

He tilts his head and gives Ma a blank stare.

“You remember that mark you got once you found Akamaru?” Ma asks.

He remembers. The moment he picked up Akamaru, two red fangs—the clan symbol—had appeared over his heart. His family had started behaving strangely about it but had assured him it was completely normal.

“Our ninken are part of our souls,” Ma says, “which is special. Our clan is the only one to have two marks.”

“Two?” He repeats weakly.

He has a hunch of where this is going.

“I didn’t expect to have to give the talk so early, and there’s a lot of things you can’t understand yet,” Ma says, tapping the table irritably, “but listen up anyways, brat.”

To his horror, soulmates are apparently a thing. The marks show up near puberty to bind souls together for life; the images begin glowing on first meeting once both parties obtain their marks.

Soul marks are thought to be caused by nature, a perfect biological match that creates superior offspring. Perfect children are everything to ninja clans, and wars have been, and still are, waged over obtaining soulmates.

He asks about same-sex couples and immediately regrets it. Humanity’s answer was apparently to have children with other people only to turn around and-

Well, he’s stopping that explanation right there.

Needless to say, he’s pretty damn sure none of this was in the manga. He doesn’t particularly care that he’s not following some script; the fact he’s unwillingly tied to someone else and expected to marry them has his hackles up.

Luckily the Inuzuka view soul marks the same way they view everything else: completely different from standard society. For them, marriage is a hope not a fact.

He gets to miss the first day of school so he can participate in some bizarre ritual where he’s passed around like a new puppy. The food is the only thing that makes it bearable.

His mark is a pink camellia. He expects to be mocked for something so girly, but he runs into a similar situation as his mark for Akamaru. Every adult seems to waver between being awestruck and pretending everything is absolutely normal.

One of his relatives fill him in.

“That’s a sign of one of the founder twins, dear,” Aunt Himawari tells him with great pride. “Her name was Tsubaki, and this flower was her symbol. What a great love you will have, oh yes.”

Everyone seems to think his “destined one” is going to lead the Inuzuka to greatness, and that he’s fated for a world-ending love.

He snorts at the thought and leaves everyone to their delusions. The only things that matter in this world are Akamaru and the clan. A flower is not going to change that.

But maybe the person attached to that flower will be interesting, he thinks.

Akamaru tells him to be careful for what he wishes for, and he pets the ninken fondly.

“There’s no point to life if it’s boring,” he tells Akamaru.

His soul mark got him out of the first day of class, but not the second. Sis drops him off, and he surveys the building with a critical eye.

“What do you think, Akamaru?” He asks, carefully balancing the ninken on the top his head.

Akamaru lets out a derisive snort, and he grimaces. That’s what he thought. As far as he can tell, the school grounds are full of either annoying, average children with no hope or stuck up clan kids who are also stupid.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he says with some disappointment.

He gets to class with a few minutes to spare, but there aren’t many empty spots. He eyes a vacant seat between two civilian kids. It’ll do, he thinks.

He supposes what happens next is fate.

One of the kids, the girl to his left, lets out a loud sigh as he tries to sit down next to her. He pauses and gives her a bright grin. He’s learned that smiles only make miserable people even more despondent.

Satisfaction fills him as green eyes narrow fiercely at him. He smirks as the girl scowls and looks away. He’s ready to sit down, ignore her, and pretend to pay attention to the teacher.

That’s not what happens.

He’s able to make out a red paw print on her right forearm before it lights up like a miniature sun. He blinks rapidly against the sudden brightness. Akamaru, still on top of his head, paws at his forehead urgently.

Look at your arm, Akamaru barks.

A glance tells him that his mark is also glowing bright enough to hurt. He looks to the girl’s stunned expression.

Oh.

Her eyes jump from his mark to her own. Her face goes pale, and he braces himself. He’s prepared for horrified denial or a childish tantrum.

He is not prepared for watery eyes or for the ear-shattering wails. Getting dragged out of the classroom by the teacher is almost a relief in comparison.

They sit together in an empty staffroom as the teacher leaves to contact their parents over a “joyous occasion”. To the two children sitting as far apart as possible, he thinks, joyous is not the word to be used.

The girl, Sakura, is dry-heaving in a corner. He looks down at Akamaru and makes a pitiful sound. The ninken lets out a sympathetic whine in response.

He doesn’t have much experience with fragile girls, least of all clanless ones. He’s not sure what to do.

“Why?” He hears Sakura gasp weakly. “Why him?”

A sharp stab of irritation goes through him. Of course, the girl is upset at getting an Inuzuka. His sister had warned him about this.

“Sorry I’m not an Uchiha,” he scowls. “I’m not exactly happy about this either.”

A bond close to what he has with Akamaru would have been nice, but he truly hadn’t hoped for much. To get the legendary fangirl as his supposed soulmate was the stuff of nightmares.

“As if I’d want one of _those_ ,” Sakura practically spits, turning to glare at him. “What makes you think I’d want an Uchiha either?”

“Give it a couple of years,” he lets a huff of air, “you would have been all over Sasuke.”

“The hell I would!” Sakura stomps her foot. “He’s such a baby!”

He looks up and down at her tiny body and sends her the best flat look he can.

“You’re a baby too,” he says.

“The hell I am! You are!” Sakura yells, pointing at him.

He narrows his eyes at her. It dissolves from there into a “you, no you” fight only a couple of kids could take seriously.

“Ugh,” he turns to Akamaru, ending the tedious cycle, “this is all kinds of messed up. There was never this soulmate crap in the manga.”

“What?” Sakura whispers suddenly, eyes wide.

He blinks at her before sharing a look with Akamaru. Things get a lot of more interesting from there.

(To say Sakura is interesting does his friend injustice. She becomes the center of his world)

It’s a given in everyone’s mind that he and Sakura are going to grow up and get married. Inevitable, they say, because of the images on their bodies that connect them.

Then they blow up all known tradition about soul marks, and how it works.

His jacket keeps it hidden, but he gains a small bird on his right shoulder blade. A black butterfly dripping ink appears on his left forearm.

Unlike him, Sakura wears a tank top to better show hers off: a yellow sun on her right upper arm and a crescent moon on her left.

(“Their teammates,” he hears whispered around him, “how scandalous!”)

It doesn’t stop there though. He goes on to gain two more soul marks after a particular trying mission and a cactus; Sakura gains three.

For him, it’s a fox silhouette on his right upper arm with a stylized cat on his left. Sakura gains a jeweled beetle on her left forearm, and he wonders at it. Are they sharing the same places for the same people?

People start begging them to stop once they both get three more marks a piece: variations of a boar, a deer, and a butterfly respectively.

He laughs at the pleading. He wishes he could stop; the gold stripe on his bottom lip feels more like a stain than a blessing.

Still—

“Akamaru wants barbeque tonight,” he says for his partner.

I didn’t say that, the ninken lets out a rough bark, but that does sound good.

“Akamaru didn’t say that,” Sakura accidently repeats the ninken, wheezing on the ground next to him, “but that sounds good.”

“Agreed,” Shino huffs from his other side.

“I’ll pay if you burn the bodies,” he offers, gesturing in the general direction of the corpses.

“Deal,” Sakura agrees immediately, “Shino, do the cleanup, and I’ll pay for dessert.”

“Acceptable,” Shino tells her, making no move to get up.

He breathes in the too damp air, and keeps his senses open for any activity. Sakura gets to her feet without groaning too much, and Shino starts moving too. Akamaru moves tiredly to his side, and he reaches a hand out to the ninken.

“Let’s get a hotel room tonight,” Sakura says over her shoulder. “There’s always one near the restaurants in these bigger towns.”

“I will request a more luxurious room than we are accustomed to,” Shino eventually replies. “I believe a private bath will not be a problem if enough coin is offered.”

“Sounds good,” he breathes out, “wake me when it’s time to move?”

“Of course,” Shino answers instantly.

“Get some rest, Sleeping Beauty,” Sakura’s voice is faint, “you’ve earned it.”

I’m going to nap too, Akamaru tells him. The ninken’s head flops onto his hip.

His eyes close, and he feels himself starting to drift off. He can’t help but think—

He really does love his soulmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the title suggests, this is a result of all those soulmate AUs. I generally don't like them, but I do enjoy a good subverted one every so often. 
> 
> Going to add in case it offends: by Unwanted in the title, I'm poking fun at myself. I've been sitting on this thing for a long time. I didn't actually want to add it to the Outtakes, but I've come around to the idea.


	13. Legacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a scene that was cut from With No Regrets Chapter 9 that has been revised and extended.

He stares into the cold face of their teacher with dread. Tobirama-sensei keeps them kneeling in the grass in front of a small pile of books, and he knows this is going to be worse than evasion tactics.

“Most often, it is speed that determines the first killing strike,” Tobirama-sensei says in a formal kneeling position across from them.

He tries not to fidget from his own position in-between Sakura and Shino. Akamaru shifts uncomfortably next to him as if feeling his nervous energy.

“When that fails, power is needed to win the ensuing battle,” his teacher continues to lecture, “but it is intelligence than can overcome both.”

He stares down at the books in dismay. Please don’t be what he thinks it is, he prays. His teacher gives no mercy.

“I have gathered these workbooks to test your ability for analyzing and evaluating information. I expect you to finish by the end of the day. Inuzuka, you are not allowed help from your ninken.”

It turns out to be a very long day.

-*-

“Kiba,” Sakura hesitates, and he gives her a questioning look.

“You do know you’re eating a beetle, right? I think Shino’s about to go into cardiogenic shock.”

He throws the piece of bread he’d been eating onto the ground and starts spitting. He wipes his face with a sleeve and throws Akamaru a dirty look. The ninken’s tail wags cutely back. He breaks the genjutsu a second later.

“This is why you must always be attentive,” Tobirama-sensei tells him, seemingly fading into existence.

He crosses his arms with a growl.

-*-

He stares at Shino. Concern seems to be dripping off the Aburame in waves. He looks down at Akamaru, and the ninken won’t meet his eyes. He feels his shoulders slump.

“What is it this time?” He asks in defeat.

“I believe this to be a lesson on how seals affect the human body if directly applied. It may also be a lesson in the possibility of friends being influenced by outside parties,” Shino eventually says. “Perhaps say, attaining the teacher’s assistance in creating pink cat ears as a harmless prank.”

It takes him a moment to work that out in his head. Memories of Sakura blowing up animals accidentally while applying harmless seals float through his head like a bad song.

“ _She did what_?” He screeches, reaching for the top of his head.

Needless to say, Shino takes him to the hospital while treating him like a live bomb. Worse, he gets whispered and laughed at the whole trip there. Akamaru keeps a guilty silence, and he knows the ninken’s in on this so-called prank.

He vows vengeance on the one ultimately responsible—Tobirama-sensei, who is nowhere to be found.

-*-

“You have until noon to get these bells from me,” Tobirama-sensei holds up two silver bells that sparkle in the sunlight.

He shares a horrified look with his teammates. He knows exactly where this is going. Akamaru lets out a pre-emptive whine.

“Whoever does not manage it will be tied up to this until dinner time,” his teacher continues, pointing to a large tree stump.

“And I will know if you do anything to sabotage your teammates,” Tobirama-sensei says with narrow eyes, “so do not test me.”

Unsurprisingly, he ends up tied to the stump. No amount of struggling shows any sign of weakness in the restraints, and he feels the rope eat into his collarbone.

“Really, sensei?” He gripes.

Tobirama-sensei ignores him. The Second Hokage stands there with arms crossed and staring into the distance. He feels a spike of anger that has everything to do with being unable to move and yet nothing at all.

“Why is it always me?” He grumbles. “You don’t pick on Sakura or Shino like you do me.”

Of course not, Sakura’s the golden child with Shino the somewhat acknowledged middle child. In that context, he’s the hated unruly youngest.

“Hell, Akamaru gets more respect than me!” He spits, gesturing with his head to the ninken in question.

Don’t drag me into this, Akamaru barks. The ninken, free to lie out on the grass, huffs before rolling away from him.

The anger leaves him as quickly as it came. He hangs his head, sagging against the ropes. This endless training is getting to him, he thinks. He really is tired.

“You think quickly,” Tobirama-sensei points out, still looking out into the surrounding forest, “but your fists are faster. Your ninken should be your partner, not your restraint.”

“I’m an Inuzuka. Wild fighting kind of comes with the package,” he mutters.

“There is no need to remind me. I remember Hitomi,” Tobirama-sensei’s lip curls as if recalling something unpleasant.

At his ancestor’s name, he’s reminded that his teacher does actually know more about the Inuzuka than other outsiders. It’s hard to remember that this frigid zombie is the one responsible for dragging his clan into the village.

“You are much like the Inuzuka I knew in the past, yet you are so different at the same time,” Tobirama-sensei acknowledges, finally turning to look at him. “I would have never imagined one of your clan to be so open to outsiders.”

He can’t say he doesn’t know what the Second Hokage’s talking about. The Inuzuka consider Konoha to be a home to defend, and its people theirs to protect. The true meaning of home, however, rests entirely on the clan’s self-worth to the village. Other clans hold no importance to them, or at least they didn’t use to.

“You’re being hard on me because I’m different?” He asks in disbelief.

“No,” his teacher says sharply, “it is because I know you can do better. I am hard on you because you are the legacy of not just the Inuzuka but Konohagakure as well. I am hard on you because you are not living up to your potential, and I will not allow it to go ignored.”

He blinks as red eyes bore into his and wonders at the emotions going through the Second Hokage. His teacher’s unique scent means he can’t pick up any traces, but he’s got a good guess.

“You _will_ be better than Hitomi,” Tobirama-sensei says, almost demands. “You _will_ be greater than any Inuzuka of the past.”

He stares at his teacher; he’s speechless in the wake of such intensity. It’s heavy, this expectation. He feels something flare up inside of him, and for this one moment, he wants to be better. He doesn’t know what to say—“Count on it” “As if there’s any doubt” or maybe _“It’s a promise.”_

“Hey, sensei, why do you wear the fur?” He asks instead, attempting to lighten the mood. “Is it to look badass? Scary?”

“Intimidating is the word you are looking for,” Tobirama-sensei says dryly.

It’s not really an answer, but he already knew he wouldn’t get one from his teacher. Getting the Second Hokage to spill any personal details is harder than pulling ninken teeth. Sakura with her wide-eyes has the best chance out of all of them to get the man to open up.

“To look badass,” he nods knowingly. “Must be a headache to clean though.”

“Not if you use solutions to prevent staining,” his teacher says, considering. “Efficient strikes and long range fighting are the best methods to keeping blood off. There is a method to cleaning the fur if it cannot be helped, however.”  

Against his better judgement, he asks some more questions about wearing fur to battle. Somehow this leads into a philosophical debate on the nature of man versus beasts. Akamaru jumps in once he starts losing the momentum to take over.

He almost doesn’t mind being tied to a stump for four hours. Almost being the key word.


	14. Flowery Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a scene that was cut from With No Regrets Chapter 9 that has been revised and extended.

“Hi, Tsutsuji,” Sakura greets with a tiny smile, “I’m Sakura.”

“I’m Tsutsuji!” His lizard summon tells her happily from on top of his shoulder.

She already knows that, you dumb lizard, Akamaru says.

“And this is Shino,” he cuts in, pointing to his teammate in an effort to keep things civil.

“I’m Tsutsuji!” Tsutsuji repeats, tail wagging happily.

Shino gives the tiny lizard a shallow nod. He tries not to laugh at how far away the Aburame is standing. He gives the lizard a gentle pat on the head.

“And you know Akamaru,” he says, sending a warning look to the ninken.

“I’m Tsutsuji,” the lizard says for a third time, more solemnly. “I’m sorry I left you. Leaving friends behind is the worst.”

Akamaru’s teeth click together, stopping whatever the ninken was going to say. He raises an eyebrow at his partner; Tsutsuji stares at Akamaru pitifully while Sakura hides a smile behind a fist.

Yeah, fine, whatever, the ninken grumbles while looking away. It’s not like you didn’t come back, Akamaru adds.

He smirks as the ninken lets out an embarrassed whimper to Tsutsuji’s happy hissing. He briefly considers telling Tsutsuji that dogs consider licks to be a sign of affection but decides to spare his partner from that particular torture.

Tsutsuji would do it too. It’d be hilarious, but he needs his partner to get along with his new summons.

“Hey, Tsutsuji, you said you were a fleeing specialist in sand, right? Can you do anything now that you’re in Konoha?” Sakura asks once the lizard calms down.

He turns his head to better look at the lizard. Tsutsuji’s a delight, but he’d like to know if his summon has any skills outside the desert as well.

“Not really,” Tsutsuji confesses after a moment of thought. “The dirt here is too hard.”

The lizard seems downcast at the admission, and he feels bad even as he resolves not to summon Tsutsuji for anything other than companionship. He’s about to reassure the little lizard when Tsutsuji brightens suddenly.

“But I know someone that will know how to be useful! He’s very sneaky!” The summon hisses, wiggling excitedly. “You should summon him!”

“Well, what’s his name?” Sakura asks.

He never told his teammates that Tsutsuji’s a nickname. He watches in amusement as Sakura’s face transforms into a baffled expression once the lizard summon lets out a series of high-pitched noises. Shino is still pretending to be somewhere else.

Sounds like a mouthful, Akamaru comments.

“I’ll probably do it wrong. How about I give you the chakra, and you go get him?” He asks, deliberately side-stepping the issue.

“Okay! Give me five minutes and then summon me!” Tsutsuji declares before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

Five minutes and an explanation on sand lizards later, he’s biting his thumb and pouring twice the amount of chakra into his Summoning technique. He concentrates on calling forth Tsutsuji.

The smoke clears away to his familiar leopard-spotted summon and a lizard that is slightly bigger than Tsutsuji. He almost asks if the new summon is related to Boss as the bigger lizard is completely covered in spikes.

“What need do you have of one such as I?” The new lizard demands in a deep voice.

“Tsutsuji said you would know how to get around the sand issue,” he says, crouching over the lizard.

Unblinking black eyes stare into his, and he gives the lizard a questioning look.

“What is a Tsutsuji?” The new summon asks after a long moment.

“Me! I’m Tsutsuji,” Tsutsuji offers.

The leopard-spotted summon starts wagging its tail, and the other lizard gives Tsutsuji a hard look. He mentally places his new summon in the “grumpy” category.

“That is a ridiculous name. It’s so stupid,” the spike-covered lizard scoffs.

Tsutsuji’s tail stops all movement, eyes narrowing at the newcomer. Akamaru lets out a dramatic gasp.

“It’s a nickname,” Tsutsuji hisses crossly, “that our summoner gave me. That my friend gave me.”

He raises an eyebrow at both lizard summons before glancing at his teammates. Sakura looks a step away from grabbing snacks, and Shino still looks ready to bolt.

“Summoner,” Tsutsuji says, calling attention to his status in relation to the tiny summons, “I believe he needs a nickname too.”

“You better not,” the other summon threatens. “Or at least don’t give me something so stupid!”

“He cannot hiss only squeak,” Tsutsuji tells him blithely. “He is also scared of water.”

“Shut up!” The spiky lizard’s tail thumps against the ground.

He doesn’t have to think long about it. He knows exactly what to call this new summon.

“Suisen. I’ll call you, Suisen,” he says.

The newly-named Suisen sputters, and Sakura goes into a coughing fit. He looks like a daffodil, Akamaru nods. He sends a grin to the ninken.

“Give me a different one! That’s worse than—”

“It matches Tsutsuji,” he overrules, “and I think it’s perfect.”

Suisen grumbles inaudibly to himself. Tsutsuji starts poking him with its nose until Suisen lets out a squeak. The spiky lizard turns around in a huff before going still.

“Oh, you,” here Suisen stares at Shino who stares back uncomfortably, “you have the chakra bugs. The yummy, _tasty_ chakra bugs.”

Shino’s discomfort would be amusing if didn’t look like Suisen was about to start flying at his teammate.

“Hey, none of that,” he scowls reaching for the summon.

Tsutsuji beats him to it; the leopard-spotted lizard moves and slams a tail right between the other summon’s eyes.

“Shino is a friend, not food,” Tsutsuji scolds.

He snorts as Suisen recoils from the hit in a daze. He keeps close to the spike-covered lizard, ready to interfere, but reaches out to give Tsutsuji a fond pet.

“I have underestimated you, Tsutsuji,” Shino’s sunglasses shine. “Upon reevaluation, I believe we will, indeed, be great friends.”


	15. Another Team 7

“Next is Team 7,” Iruka-sensei says, “Inuzuka Kiba, Uzumaki Naruto, and Uchiha Sasuke.”

“What?” He blinks.

The world falls sideways after that.

-*-

“Why,” he asks with great emphasis, “am I wearing this?”

You know why, Akamaru huffs. Sasuke grunts from the seat next to him, and he debates who to snarl at first. He pokes the grilled fish on his plate and ponders its edibility.

He’s not sure eating fish from a shady food stand in the middle of the night is the greatest idea in the world. He’s not sure sitting here, in the middle of the night, eating fish from a food stand that looks ready to collapse _with Sasuke_ is the greatest idea in the world.

Thoughts of homicide fill his head as he dumps the contents of his plate onto the ground for Akamaru to eat. The ninken doesn’t share his same hesitance and scarfs up the questionable fish.

He turns to Sasuke, who is poking at a pile of mush that is supposedly shrimp, and starts tapping his fingernails on the counter. The Uchiha finally looks up to give him a flat stare.

“Let me be specific,” he says with only a touch of hysteria. “ _Why the hell am I wearing an Akatsuki cloak?_ ”

Sasuke’s eyes dart to where the owner of the food stand is supposed to be standing. The Uchiha slumps upon noticing no one there. He snorts at the reaction. The owner’s out taking a break; he made sure of it with a gentle genjutsu.

Sasuke’s not getting out of this one.

“You’re wearing one too!” He exclaims, barely keeping his hands from going for the Uchiha’s neck. “We’re both just sitting here. Wearing Akatsuki cloaks. Eating fish in the Land of Earth. _Why?_ ”

His big sleeves follow every gesture he makes, and it’s irritating. Sasuke throws the rest of the mushy shrimp to Akamaru, who wisely stays curled up away from both of them.

“I’m not the one who asked if there were openings. You told him feelings wouldn’t get in the way of work,” Sasuke reminds him with a roll of the eyes.

He looks down at the deformed chopsticks in his hands and wonders how good of a murder weapon they’d make.

“I was joking,” he says slowly. “You were being cornered by blue and nasty, and I was stalling for time. It’s what I do.”

“Well, he didn’t take it as a joke,” Sasuke says wryly.

“You weren’t supposed to take him up on it!” He blows up, stabbing the chopsticks into the wood of the food stand.

Sasuke eyes him warily as he rubs his face in exhaustion. He blows out a breath, and the Uchiha relaxes slightly.

“Naruto’s going to kill us,” he eventually says. “My family too.”

He doesn’t say Sakura’s name, doesn’t want to think about it. While he knows she’ll be fine by herself, he made a promise to her before graduation. It hurts to know he’s breaking it, but Sasuke needs him more right now.

Even if he does want to send Sasuke’s dead body to Itachi at the moment.

“They can try to take us on,” Sasuke snorts, eyes glinting, “but we’re not going back. Not until we’re strong enough.”

The Uchiha means strong enough to take on Obito and Kaguya. Not for the first time, he wonders if telling Sasuke everything was a smart decision. Akamaru sure seems to question it often enough.

“And if Naruto comes to take us back?” He asks with raised eyebrows.

“We hit him as hard as we can until he goes home. That idiot can bounce back from anything,” Sasuke says, tone more fond than acerbic.

Once again, he marvels over his previous team’s bizarre dynamic, and the way he had fit into it. Naruto and Sasuke, far friendlier rivals than he remembers them being, did not actually care to interact with each other much.

Naruto, having formed a vendetta on their teacher since day one, was more likely to bug Kakashi-sensei than seek out Sasuke for any form of acknowledgement. As for Sasuke—

Well, he’d never expected that his closest friend outside of Sakura would be Sasuke of all people. It’s why he’s here—as a missing-nin and starving in the middle of night—on a job to kill people in an effort to save the world.

He’d be more touched that Sasuke apparently feels the same and is including him on this crazy train if he didn’t have to deal with so many weirdos.

“Right, because it’s not like Naruto has any regeneration powers or anything,” he says with lidded eyes.

“We hit him really hard,” Sasuke deadpans.

He laughs despite himself. It’s not really in him to stay mad for long, and honestly? There’s no denying that freedom from Konoha is good for both of them, especially Sasuke.

There’s a new light in his friend’s eyes ever since reconciling with the wayward brother. A new sense of peace and surety radiates off the Uchiha. He’s not sure even Naruto could convince Sasuke to leave Itachi behind now.

“We should get going. Our mark’s going to be leaving soon,” he says reluctantly, getting to his feet.

Sasuke mirrors him, and they both take a moment to stare at the awful food stand. Akamaru stretches before moving beside him; the ninken asks if they’re done with their lover’s spat.

He ignores Akamaru to catch Sasuke’s eye. He raises his eyebrows.

“I’m not paying for it,” Sasuke tells him immediately. “It was garbage.”

“Well, I’m not paying for it. I didn’t even eat it,” he argues.

They turn to back to the food stand to stare some more. He looks down at his red and black cloak, humming thoughtfully.

“You know, it wouldn’t matter if it was on fire,” he casually mentions.

“Burning this thing to the ground would probably be a favor to the world,” Sasuke considers.

The Land of Earth loses nothing of real importance that night save for a noble’s testicles. Upon further inspection into the man’s nightly habits, he comes to the conclusion that Sasuke and he are doing the public a favor in all the ways that matter.

It’s only on the way to their next mission that he recalls never lifting the genjutsu from the owner. He shrugs and puts it out of his mind until they come across a rickety stall in the Land of Wind that is somehow selling grilled fish. He questions life.

“You didn’t pay,” the man rasps, missing an eye and waving clawed fingers.

He sighs and pulls out his wallet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silliness to take the stress off finals. Good luck to anyone taking an exam!


	16. Re: Another Team 7

He’s sitting at a table outside an out-of-the-way ramen shop that’s seen better days, inhaling the wonderful scent of food, when a smell he’s come to loathe mixes in with the broth’s. He looks longingly down at the bowl full of steaming hot noodles.

“Team 8’s here,” he sighs. “Don’t smell Naruto though.”

Akamaru corrects him harshly.

“Never mind, Naruto’s pretending to be a shuriken today.”

The Uzumaki even imitates its smell which is an impressive step up over the last attempt. Admittedly, anything’s an improvement over being a lone, wiggling palm tree surrounded by nothing else.

“They’re probably going to throw him and pretend to miss to get the jump on us,” he says dully.

Sasuke slams an unbroken pair of disposable chopsticks onto the table and lets out a grunt that can either mean “I hear and acknowledge you” or “I’m not listening.” The Uchiha can go either way really.

“I’m going to send a fireball towards any shuriken they throw,” Sasuke promises darkly. “You—”

“Oh no, I’m not wearing the ring today. I’m off the clock,” he says, lifting the bowl back up to his face. “You deal with it.”

He smirks as Sasuke starts scowling and glaring. Only one of them can wear Orochimaru’s ring, and right now, he’s not it. Honestly, he’ll still be pulled into the fight, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be obstinate about it.

This is all Sasuke’s fault after all.

Akamaru lets out a warning bark to let them know their position is being closed in on; the Uchiha dashes away from the table, mouth twisting in a way that promises pain.

He stubbornly shoves a bunch of noodles into his mouth, and begins eating faster the moment he hears the sound of righteous fury bellowing in the distance. It sounds a lot like Naruto.

A particular, irritating scent hits his nose, and he flicks a bug off his arm. He sighs and stirs the remaining ramen in the bowl with something close to despair.

“Man, I am trying to eat,” he says. “Can you at least let me finish first?”

“Giving an enemy time to strategize and regain strength is an unwise tactical decision,” Shino informs him, moving into sight with hands tucked into pockets.

The Aburame makes no hostile movement despite the words, and he speculates on it. Perhaps Shino is no longer livid on Sakura’s behalf.

Eyeing the hooded figure, he takes an experimental bite of food. Akamaru sits by his feet, ready to move, but Shino still makes no sign of attack. He makes a decision.

“Have a seat while I finish this,” he says, “but don’t try anything. Akamaru’s watching you.”

Damn straight, Akamaru barks.

The Aburame stares at him, and he can practically hear the “are you an idiot?” that radiates off the ninja. He shrugs and slurps another mouthful.

To his surprise, Shino actually takes a seat across from him after a moment’s hesitation.

“You do not seem concerned with fighting against the comrades you have betrayed,” Shino says, sunglasses glinting, “or where your current path is heading towards despite the foresight Sakura swears by. You have not answered the questions left behind adequately.”

He taps the table thoughtfully. He’s gotten the impression that Sakura told Shino everything, but this confirms it. With the ring currently attached to Sasuke, and therefore no one monitoring him, he sees no reason to avoid this conversation.

“I’m technically not working right now,” he says. “Ask your questions and we’ll see.”

“It was not difficult to piece together evidence that you joined Akatsuki unwillingly,” Shino tells him bluntly. “Why? Sakura’s first priority was to find out what could drive someone such as yourself with nothing to gain into betrayal.”

Shino pauses when he interrupts to make a particular loud slurping sound. He motions for the bug-user to continue when the judgmental staring gets to be too much.

“Why do you follow Sasuke despite knowing what lies ahead?” Shino asks, eyebrows drawn together.

He stares into the bowl—only the broth remains. If he strains hard enough, he can make out part of a reflection.

“That guy is a headache and a half. He’s an irritating smug bastard that reeks of cats,” he finally says, “but he doesn’t deserve the shit he’s gone through. When people look at him, all they see is what they want to see. No one deserves that kind of loneliness.”

He looks up, gazing into Shino’s sunglasses. He feels that familiar resolve when he chose to leave the village behind.

“I’m not going to let him get himself killed,” he asserts. “I won’t abandon Sasuke, but I’ll figure out a way to save Konoha even if I have to do it all by myself.”

He raises the bowl to his lips when only a hum from the Aburame fills the silence following his words. He takes a sip, wondering how the fight’s going. Naruto’s stopped screaming, so it’s winding down.

“It seems Hoshigaki was correct. You are in a relationship with Sasuke,” Shino states suddenly.

He inhales the broth. He chokes as the decently hot liquid goes down into his lungs. Wheezing, he slams the bowl onto the table.

“I am not!” He manages to get out through the coughs. “I’ll kill that blue bastard!”

That certainly explains why Kisame keeps sending those boxes of condoms, or why Itachi keeps asking about him in those letters to Sasuke.

Akamaru is too busy laughing to say anything intelligible. The ninken manages to get out “they all think you’re in heat” before spiraling back into laughter. He begins cursing, long and loud.

Before he can ask what in the hell made Shino think that, Sasuke is there, arms crossed and positively fuming. Weary and roughed up Konoha ninja follow in his partner’s wake.

“I’ve had to deal with these morons by myself, and you’re hanging out with _Shino_?” Sasuke snaps, sounding an awful lot like a jilted lover.

Shino doesn’t move or say anything, but he can practically feel the eyebrow raising. He feels a multitude of eyes digging into him and recalls the previous conversation. He throws his hands up in the air.

“I just wanted to eat my damn noodles!” He cries.

“Get off your ass, away from the chakra-eating bug-user, and do something useful for once,” Sasuke demands, face darkening.

“Are they having a spat?” Sakura blurts out, eyes wide.

“Are you telling me that fish guy was right?” Naruto’s jaw hangs wide open.

“It-It seems so. Shino must be causing insecurity,” Hinata says with a quiet firmness.

“We are not together!” He bellows to the peanut gallery.

For a trio of dangerous near S-class ninja, he has a hard time seeing anything other than a bunch of gossipy school children. Naruto, covered in ash and with hair standing straight up, does not help this image.

“Yes, we are,” Sasuke says, clearly not getting it. “We’re partners which means you should not be sitting there chatting up the enemy!”

“You are not helping our case,” he grits out over Akamaru’s choking laugh.

If he’d known buying Sakura a hairpin would start a chain reaction that ends with him in Akatsuki being chased down and harassed, he would have gone home to take a nap instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so starts Sakura's long-term plan of getting Shino to learn seduction techniques.
> 
> Last one for this AU, promise. Probably.


	17. Gaining Knighthood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone in need of mindless fluff, here's an AU beginning.

He is Inuzuka Kiba, and he is three years old. That’s apparently old enough to walk around Konoha under the protective glances of clan members weaving in and out of village streets and rooftops. Maybe once he gets his ninken the vigilant watch will fade away, but for now he keeps bumping into clansmen out and about with their own partners.

It doesn’t bother him. If anything, it’s comforting to know that he has relatives looking out him, ready to take him home. Still, the casual attitude of giving young children free range to wander strikes him as strange.

Honestly, it’s a sudden impulse that caused him to leave the compound. Boredom or too much sugar maybe. Still, he soon finds he’s not ready to venture out into the village as the new scents are incredibly overwhelming. He’s about to throw in the towel when he smells _it_.

A whiff stops him in his tracks as he’s walking past a busy side street. His mouth begins watering. Doughnuts, his mind whispers to him, _doughnuts_. His whole body becomes consumed with the delicious scent of fried bread and sugar.

Ma’s given him enough money for a snack, so he finds no reason to not turn around and pursue the appetizing smell. He follows it to a small stand and finds the counter to be above his head.

Not for the first time, he curses his own height. Doughnuts, his mind whispers again. Narrowing his eyes, he backs up and takes a running leap. His fingers latch onto the counter, and he heaves himself up until his stomach hits the counter top.

“How much?” He wheezes.

“Kid,” the shocked stall owner stutters out, “all you had to do was say something! I would have leaned over!”

“How much?” He asks again, choosing to ignore the now useless advice.

“Thirty-seven ryo for two,” the stall owner eventually says.

He holds onto the counter with one hand and digs around in his pockets with the other. He places the money onto the counter and almost slides off while attempting to give the correct amount.

“Enjoy your sata andagi,” the stall owner says, sliding the paper-wrapped food towards him.

Pleased, he grabs the bundle and tumbles to the ground. He lands harshly on his behind, but he’s experienced so much intense rough housing over the past month that the pain barely registers.

Exploring while eating is simple enough and only a moron would cause an accident while unfolding paper. Naturally, while trying to stuff one of the sweets in his mouth, he stops looking at where he’s going.

“Hey!”

He rubs his forehead while clutching his remaining snack to his chest. A scowling girl glares at him beneath pink bangs. She’s rubbing her own forehead with teary, green eyes. He swallows the remainder of bread in his mouth, mourning his peaceful snack time.

“Watch where you’re going—” The girl suddenly stops, going pale.

Rude, he’s not that scary. He tries not to frown, choosing to glance down at his remaining treat. Let it not be said the Inuzuka don’t know benevolence.

“Sorry about that,” he holds out his remaining piece generously, “doughnut?”

“ _Doughnut_?” The girl repeats dumbly.

“Oi, it’s not like I know what the Japanese call it,” he mutters.

More like he wasn’t paying attention to what the stall owner called it. Well, he’ll get used to the new terms soon enough. Immersion is the best learning method after all.

“Japanese?” The girl once again repeats.

“Whatever you call this language,” he shrugs, knowing full well little kids made up words all the time.

He’s about to rescind his offer of the, quite frankly, amazing doughnut and go about his day when he’s grabbed by the shoulders and shaken.

“You—other life—remember?” The girl shrieks in his ear.

He shoves the sweet into her mouth out of reflex. It takes a full second before everything sinks in, and he’s pounding a choking Haruno Sakura on the back.

Needless to say, it’s a bit of a shock to suddenly run into someone else that used to be, well, someone else.

They manage to arrange a meet up of sorts before he’s rushed home by a family member that assumes he’s bullying her. Their meet up goes well even if it does leave Sakura silent for a few days.

Of course, both of their families easily find out they’re hanging out. Sakura’s parents are concerned about her choice in friends, and his mother wants to make sure he’s really not bullying Sakura.

This leads to a rather public parent approved playdate. They’re left staring at each other wordlessly.

“How about we play a game?” He suggests.

“What are we, kids?” Sakura scoffs.

“Yes,” he deadpans.

Sakura goes quiet, and he looks around the playground. Calling it a playground is rather charitable; there’s nothing to play with besides a few balancing bars. He’d go so far as to say this is nothing more than a dumping ground for mothers to leave their children.

Is it any wonder that most of the kids here group up and play pretend?

“Want to go play ninja?” He asks, eyeing one of the smaller groups of children.

The boy with the brown hair–clearly the leader–smells like fried food and well laundered clothes. No obvious negative scent, no mean remarks to that kid that just fell down, probably a good choice to approach–

“Absolutely not,” Sakura snarls, face twisting into something truly dark.

He takes a step back, automatically hunching his shoulders. He doesn’t relax until Sakura’s face smooths out, and she loosens her tiny fists. She looks a step away from crying, and he feels like he’s been stabbed.

Which is horrible considering he hasn’t even done anything.

“Sorry,” Sakura says dully, “but pick something else. Anything else.”

He frowns and attempts to think of something less triggering. Clearly his new friend is a bomb disguised as a girl. He’ll have to be careful not to set her off.

Well, if ninja elicits a spark, what is the opposite of ninja? Samurai? He taps his foot in thought. No, that’s still too close to ninja. How about–

“Let’s play knights,” he suggests.

“Knights?” Sakura blinks at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah, like Knights of the Round Table,” he nods even as Sakura continues to mouth the word “knights” with a blank expression.

“I’ll be King Arth–Arth,” he can’t quite make the “th” sound and compromises, “Arturus, and you’ll be Myrddin.”

Knights are as far away from ninja as possible. It’s a good choice for a game, and he can’t quite stop himself from his pleased wriggle. He decides that, hey, he’s only three. Why not wriggle?

Sakura doesn’t say anything. She only stares at him with those big eyes and suddenly his good idea seems incredibly lame. He scratches his cheek nervously.

“Well, what do you want to play then?” He snaps out defensively.

“I like it. I want to play knights,” Sakura suddenly smiles, surprising him, “but you can’t be King Arturus.”

“What? Why not?” He asks, miffed.

“Because you’re not King-like enough,” Sakura says with a haughty sniff. “Besides I’ve got a better idea. I know who you should be!”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges. “Who?”

“Gawain,” Sakura says, eyes bright.

He shrugs his shoulders and goes with it. Gawain, one of the greatest Knights of the Round Table, is a pretty cool guy to be. Sakura and he go look for sticks, ones suitable enough for a sword and a staff, and begin making up a story about searching for the Holy Grail.

“Fear not, Sir Gawain, for I am here with you! With your swordsmanship and my chakra, there is no obstacle we cannot overcome!” Myrddin cries, waving her leafy staff.

“Indeed,” he nods. “I only fear that the one responsible for our missing comrades will show herself soon, that wretched Morgana.”

By the end of the day, they’ve turned the Holy Grail into the “Sage’s Sake Cup” and talked some of the other kids into pretending to be Morgana’s evil ninja, sent to hinder their quest.

“Oh, Sakura, what happened to your hair?” Sakura’s mother laments, attempting to smooth down the tangled mess her daughter’s hair has become.

Sakura merely gives her mother a huge grin, spinning her pretend staff with a flourish. He taps the pretend sword against his shoulder and considers today’s mission a success.

Myrddin and Gawain may not have found the Sage’s Sake Cup, but he certainly found something far more valuable: a hilariously creative, fun friend.

He follows them out of the playground despite Mrs. Haruno’s strained smile. Sakura and he plan their next meet up before parting ways. They both take home their sticks and a promise to continue where they left off.

(Sakura never tells him that Gawain, champion of women and the poor, is her favorite knight of all time)

 

Extra:

 

“Myrddin, that castle is too suspicious! Surely King Arturus is being held there. What says your chakra?”

“Hey, can I play too?”

He pauses with his stick high in the air and turns around. Sakura goes very still beside him. He tries not to stare at the boy who wears a swirl patterned shirt and whisker marks on his cheeks.

He does his best to avoid bright, blue eyes that tinge with hope and desperation. He keeps his mouth firmly closed and waits for Sakura to say something. She glances at him, and he shrugs back.

“Okay, but you’ve got to play who we choose for you,” Sakura says, voice slightly stilted.

“Who is it? Who is it?” Naruto asks, practically bouncing.

Naruto’s blue eyes pop against blond hair that can’t decide whether it has bangs or not. Matched with Naruto’s desire to be Hokage, it’s an easy decision. He shares a glance with Sakura and together they utter,

“King Arturus.”

If getting caught by Naruto was weird, it’s even weirder to get asked to play by Sasuke. The baby Uchiha should honestly be locked away in the Uchiha compound.

He shares a helpless look with Sakura. It’s not like they have a good reason to say no at this point. Naruto, begging them to agree so he can get a new friend, is also a large factor in “can’t say no.”

“Fine, you can play with us, but you have to play who we choose,” Sakura agrees reluctantly.

Elaborately drawn pages of a powerful Sasuke that teeters between morality and immorality flip through his head. With a desire to bring down Konoha and a brother complex taller than the Hokage Tower, he knows the one character that fits Sasuke.

“He can be Morgana,” he says.

A sharp elbow to the stomach makes him gasp for breath. Sakura steps away from him and puts on her thinking face.

“Lancelot,” Sakura tries to say only for it to get mangled into Ranseyat, “you can be Lancelot. King Arturus’ best friend.”

Shiny blue eyes cause Sasuke to flinch away. Naruto’s cheering of “Lancelot!” causes the Uchiha a fair amount of pain. Hilariously enough, baby Sasuke seems quite helpless in the face of Naruto’s radiant joy.

“Is this Lancelot strong?” Sasuke questions demandingly.

“The strongest knight,” Sakura promises, “only matched by Gawain during the day.”

The last part is hurriedly tacked on. He feels a shiver go down his spine as Sasuke pouts in displeasure. Surely baby Sasuke isn’t so highly competitive at this age?

“And at night?” Sasuke asks, somehow making it sound threatening.

“Gawain’s probably no match for Lancelot at night,” Sakura says with an emphasis on the probably.

A glint in Sasuke’s eyes causes him to reconsider the benefits of dueling. He has no doubt that they’ll be going through a pile of sticks faster than they can blink once Sasuke gets the hang of knighthood.

“I’ll go find a stick for Lancelot,” he says with a sigh. “Try not to kill anyone while I’m gone.”


	18. Gaining Knighthood 2

Apparently he and Sakura are having too much fun in their exclusive world of pretend; a tiny Naruto and Sasuke join them in less than a month. With Naruto as King Arturus and Sasuke as Lancelot, their playtime becomes a lot…stranger.

The demon child and the youngest son of the Uchiha main house bring their own can of worms, and there’s always someone keeping a sharp eye on their playdates. If he didn’t already know that little Itachi is a genin with better things to do, he would have missed the background tension entirely.

(Is it Naruto or Sasuke that keeps them under supervision? The Uchiha coup is only a few years away)

He ultimately decides that it doesn’t matter since his family doesn’t seem to be against him playing with the two. Though their faces do scrunch up when he mentions Sasuke, something he takes great pleasure in.

“So what’re we doing today?” He asks, tapping a stick against his shoulder.

Sasuke’s mouth opens, and Naruto leans in excitedly as if not knowing exactly what the Uchiha is going to say.

“No dueling,” Sakura interjects.

Sasuke pouts immediately. He sends her a grateful look, and Naruto lets out a giggle. Movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention.

“What’s your brother got?” He asks, and Sasuke brightens up immediately.

Today’s game of pretend ends up getting out of hand. It starts with, as he’s beginning to suspect all major events eventually will, a sad child who only wants to be accepted by their peers.

They’re in the middle of taking down a fortress—which is actually just an elaborate tent put together by Itachi who barely kept a straight face through the whole thing—when an unpleasant sound reaches they’re ears.

“You always lose! Loser!”

The insult is screamed so loud that it causes all of them to stop in the middle of their assault. Across the playground is what looks like a mismatched group of children crowding around an older boy screaming at a younger one.

They can’t hear the rest of the one-sided fight, but they do see the older boy push the younger one down.

A streak of yellow rushes past him, and he hurries after Naruto, still stuck in “follow the king” mode. He doesn’t realize he’s headed straight for the altercation until he’s halfway across the playground.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Naruto shouts out, stick pointed straight at the older boy.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. He steps up beside Naruto, stick tapping against his shoulder threateningly. Before the boy can say anything, Sasuke steps up to Naruto’s other side, and Sakura’s aggravated sighing hits the back of his neck.

The younger boy scurries away once the attention shifts to their group. The boy looks awfully familiar. He strains his memory for why. There, those clan marks on the kid’s cheek. He knows those swirls; it’s Chouji.

He misses the verbal throw down between Naruto and the bully, having tuned them out to focus on Chouji. He only vaguely recognizes Naruto’s speech getting louder and angrier.

A movement catches his attention, and he flings himself in front of Naruto. A fist connects with his face, and he only remains standing thanks to his cousins’ rough play. It’s not like he does this on purpose; he’s gotten so used to taking hits aimed for King Arturus that it’s an automatic reaction at this point.

The stinging in his cheek seems to become magnified by the sudden chilly silence. He smells fear and wonders what the gaggle of three year olds behind him look like.

“Shayari,” Naruto suddenly says, stepping around him.

“What?” Is the only thing the older boy can get out before a stick whacks him across the face.

“Shayari,” Sasuke says grimly, charging forward as the boy’s friends jump in.

“Shan _naro_!” Sakura cries out, rushing past him.

There is one thing that a Knight of the Round Table must abide by: chivalry. When Naruto first joined, there were some modifications to both the concept and the word as nothing about chivalry translates over well.

The result is shayari: Attack for justice. Do not betray. Do not be cruel. Protect the weak. Respect mothers. Pick your battles. Respect your Hokage and Nation.

Evidently this is either justice (him) or protecting the weak (Chouji).

He sees a fist aimed towards Sakura’s back and dashes forward with a clumsy thrust of his mock sword. Satisfaction fills him at the kid’s pained yell, and he loses himself to the childish battleground and bloodlust.

What a world where three year olds could even experience bloodlust. At least he’s got his bloodline to blame; Sakura’s got no excuse.

“Everyone okay?” He asks, pulling a hissing Sakura off a now crying kid.

“Fine,” Sasuke says, throwing away the small remainder of a stick into the grass.

“Uh-huh,” Naruto nods, wiping dirty fingers against a white shirt.

An unimpressed Itachi hovers over them not a second later. Painful finger flicks on the forehead is their punishment. Itachi gestures for Sasuke to follow him, and Sasuke’s cheeks puff up in response.

He’s got to hand to big brother; Itachi never scolds Sasuke in front of them. Hana would have just yelled at him right there.

Naruto grumbles at Itachi’s back before going still. Naruto rushes over to a wide-eyed Chouji, who falls down in shock. He wonders if the kid’s afraid of them.

“Hey,” Naruto says, crouching down, “not a loser. We’re on your side, and we won. So there!”

He can’t help it. He laughs. Chouji’s wide eyes look from him to Sakura who is straightening her hair next to him. Chouji doesn’t reply fast enough, and Naruto takes this as a negative response.

“I’m King of the Knights of the Round Table,” Naruto continues gravely, “and I say you’re not a loser!”

“King? Knights?” Chouji looks to Naruto in confusion.

Naruto puffs up and, with hands on hips, begins spouting off a rehearsed speech. Sakura helped draft it for him.

“We are the great Swords of Konoha! We are few but brave! None can match us! Our friendship is strong! We sit at a round table! I, Uzumaki Naruto, greatest leader of all time, sit at this table! We follow the way of shayari!”

“Shayari?” Chouji blinks.

And like that, Naruto goes off into a long rant of what shayari means. It’s surprisingly deep for a three year old, far deeper than what Sakura or he described.

“I think we may have replaced his nindo,” he whispers to Sakura.

Maybe Chouji’s too considering those shiny eyes.

“Don’t say that,” Sakura whispers back with a grimace.

Sasuke joins them with a smile which lets him know Itachi didn’t actually do any reprimanding. Naruto winds down, and the bizarre spiritual testimony ends with the expected offer.

“Do you want to join?” Naruto asks, excitement visible.

“Can I really?” Chouji squeaks out.

Naruto lets out an “Of course!” and turns to Sakura and him expectantly. He shares a glance with Sakura, and she bites her lip. Undoubtedly, it’s hitting her now that there’s no Shikamaru with Chouji.

He rolls a shoulder and leans forward so his forehead is touching Sakura’s.

“Lamorak?” Sakura quietly says. “Incredibly strong.”

“Percival,” he argues, name strangled out to Berseyir, “innocent and polite. Wants to be a knight after seeing them in action.”

Sakura makes an agreeing sound, and they turn to Chouji. The plump boy taps his fingers together nervously.

“You are Sir Percival, Knight of the Round Table,” Sakura says while making a grand gesture. “Make your oath to your King!”

It’s hilarious how stern it sounds, and he doesn’t bother stopping the huge grin on his face.

“Oath?” Chouji repeats with some confusion.

“You have to agree to follow shayari and this guy,” Sasuke says, poking Naruto.

Naruto pokes back, and they step in to explain the names and the rules before everything derails.

Everyone has to have a sword (stick) except for Sakura. Sir is a surname belonging to everyone in the Round Table except for Naruto and Sakura. Naruto’s king, but Sakura’s his advisor that shares equal status, and so on.

At some point in their explanation, they gain an audience. Their scent’s been around since the fight broke out and remains even after the other group of children literally ran home crying. He’s been keeping an eye on it, but the scent keeps getting closer.

“Oi, what do you want?” He eventually calls out when the odor gets too close.

A boy with drooping eyes and a frowning face comes out from the shadows. Something strikes him as eerily familiar, but the boy takes his time to slowly walk to stand in front of Naruto.

The boy looks from Chouji to the rest of them with a gaze that seems far too calculating. He tenses up with the sudden realization of who this is.

“You have room for one more?” Shikamaru asks.

And like that, they gain Sir Tristan.

(“It doesn’t fit,” Sakura whispers harshly. “Tristan was in love and always on the run!”

“His love is a cloud, and he runs from work for it. It’ll work,” he shrugs. “You got a better name for him?”

The silence that answers him is telling)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect a Part 3.


	19. Gaining Knighthood 3

The adventures of the Knights of the Round Table continue on without incident for four months. While Sakura and he have nostalgia fueling them, the rest of the group should have gotten tired of their game by now. Little kids, he remembers, have short attention spans and constantly fluctuating desires.

Why then, is he here with his sister, buying a wooden sword?

“That’s too much for a defect bokken. You trying to rip me off?” Hana scowls from next to him.

It’s amazing how intimidating an eight year old girl can be. The shopkeeper’s brow is beading up with sweat.

“Five hundred,” the man spits.

“Try fifty,” Hana snarls.

He watches the back and forth until the price gets settled on something both parties agree to. Hana throws him the wooden sword, and he almost falls over trying to catch it. He clutches the weapon awkwardly to his chest and follows Hana out the store.

“If anyone gives you trouble over it, bring ‘em to me,” Hana says darkly.

The Haimaru brothers perk up outside the door. We’ll give them a thrashing, one of them promises. The other two let out barks of agreement.

“I’ve got to go. Be home by dinner,” Hana tells him, ruffling his hair violently.

His sister dashes away, leaving him with a stinging scalp and holding an oversized wooden sword. As he watches her ninken disappear after her, he wonders if she realizes that he has no idea where he’s at or how to get home.

She’s definitely his Sis, he thinks. Only siblings carried that unique love; the kind where they cook breakfast and buy a weapon only to turn around and abandon with a smile.

Sighing, he adjusts the wooden sword in his arms, picks a direction, and walks. He’ll run into an Inuzuka eventually. Probably.

His feet carry him out of the market and into a more remote area. It’s a relief once the odor of people thin out, and he thinks he can smell a familiar scent. He follows it to a small garden hidden by shrubbery.

There’s a girl kneeling over a bowl, surrounded by spilled sunflower petals, and he lets out a groan. He could have sworn it was his aunt’s perfume. A boy stands over her radiating anger. This is probably a bad time to ask for directions.

“You killed my father!” The boy growls.

Maybe if he turns around and pretends to see nothing—the girl bursts into tears.

Well, alright then.

“Oi,” he says, stepping forward, “stop it.”

Stop making her cry is what he wants to say. His words die in his throat as two pairs of blank eyes swivel to meet his in surprise. Hyuuga, his memory tells him.

“This isn’t your business,” the boy hisses at him. “Leave.”

Leaving would be the easy thing to do. Nothing good ever comes from being involved with the Hyuuga; his mother curses them frequently enough. Thing is, he’s never been one for the easy path.

“My business now,” he growls as deeply as his young vocal cords allow. “Making a girl cry like that, have you no shame?”

 _Have you no shame_. It’s something he utters a lot as Gawain. It’s not the first time he finds himself repeating his words as a knight outside the game either. When did the pretend world start seeping into the real one?

“You know nothing,” the boy spits.

“I know that you’re blaming her for something she didn’t do,” he bares his teeth. “Unless she’s a really strong ninja or _your father was a lame one_.”

The boy comes at him with a scream and a thrusting palm. He only has enough time to chuck the sword to the side and dodge. He lands a fierce elbow strike into the kid’s side and twirls around the boy’s counterstrike. He lands a punch into the boy’s other side, dancing away from the next counter attack.

It continues like this until they’re both gasping for breath and slouched over. It’s galling, but he’ll need to go buy Sasuke a better birthday gift. It’s only thanks to the Uchiha’s constant dueling that he can even keep up with this older boy.

“So you want to talk about it now?” He wheezes.

The boy screams and rushes at him. He takes it as a no. Beyond tired and seriously aggravated, he stands his ground instead of moving out of the way. The boy aims a palm for his shoulder, and he takes the chance to wrap his arms around the kid.

He drags them both to the ground and maintains an iron grip even as the boy struggles with ever increasing hysterical fervor. The girl remains frozen in shock on the ground beside them, tears still flowing down her cheeks.

“You can cry you know,” he says softly into the kid’s ear. “You loved him.”

It takes a minute, but liquid beings sliding down his neck. Broken sobs dig into his ear, and to make things worse, the girl begins crying harder to give him a double dose of high-pitched wailing. He stares up at the sky and wonders what he did to deserve this.

Sunflowers and tears make for a terrible combination. He doesn’t want to smell it again.

“You’re late!” Naruto yells, leaping towards him with a scrunched up face.

Naruto stops short, and Sakura, following behind Naruto, freezes in place. Both of their gazes fly past his shoulders. He scratches the back of his head, and his hand bumps into the wooden sword attached to his back. 

He takes a breath and gestures behind him,

“Guys, meet Hinata and Neji. They’re going to play with us.”

Sakura drags him away immediately. He winces as her forehead smacks into his.

“Are you out of your mind? Take them back,” Sakura whispers harshly

“Too late. Already named them,” he says without a hint of apology.

If looks could kill, he muses. For a moment, he worries that Sakura is about to unleash killing intent, but she soon deflates like a popped balloon.

“What are they?” Sakura asks, resigned.

“Hinata’s Bedwyr, and Neji’s Lionel,” he tells her, Lionel turning into Raione.

“We could have come up with better names than that,” Sakura grouses.

“I know, but I wanted to make sure you couldn’t say no,” he says without a hint of shame.

It’s not like he didn’t give it any thought. Bedwyr, though overshadowed by the others, stayed by the king’s side until the end. Lionel went mad with vengeance against the brother that didn’t save him from his torment.

“You’re responsible for him,” Sakura says. “If he goes crazy, you better be able to stop it.”

“On my honor,” he smirks.

Sakura gives him a flat look. She sticks her tongue out and stomps away to the newcomers. He can almost see the moment Sakura changes into her role as Myrddin—her back straightens and her strides become strong and confident.

He wonders if she realizes that she’s been controlling her emotions better these past few weeks. He was expecting angry tears or getting hit instead of a quick acceptance.

(Sakura doesn’t say it, but she’s getting nervous. Naruto and Sasuke had no friends. Chouji and Shikamaru only had each other. What does the butterfly affect?)

He’s probably not the only one being influenced by his game character. If the two of them are being changed in small ways, what about actual moldable children?

“Where did you get that?” Sasuke demands to know, running up to him and staring at his back.

“My sister got it for me,” he says, already knowing how this is going to end. “She got it for cheap since it’s a defect.”

Sasuke puffs up in envy, and he glances to where Chouji and Shikamaru are sitting in the shade. He can’t see either of them wielding a bokken but stranger things have happened.

“When Itachi buys you one, ask how to hold it properly,” he says. “And then show me. Our duels are going to be _epic_.”


	20. Gaining Knighthood 4

"Akamaru," he breathes, holding the tiny puppy with both hands.

It's amazing, this feeling. Sis hovers over his shoulder, ready to intervene. It’s a useless gesture, he’s not going to drop his partner. Akamaru lets out a squeak, and he thinks it’s a confirmation. I’m here, the puppy seems to say.

Because he can't stop himself, he places the lightest of kisses onto Akamaru's head and says under his breath,

"Gaheris."

(Gawain's dear conscious, the brother who followed him everywhere. Unlike the legend though, he’s not going to let Akamaru die. Never)

Of course, the first time he brings Akamaru out with him to their play group it’s a bit of a disaster.

“Puppy!”

“Why would you bring a puppy?”

“Dogs can’t be knights.”

“How’s he gonna hold a sword?”

And so on.

Four year olds, he reminds himself, really aren’t told about other clans. It’s why Chouji gets picked on for his weight or the Hyuuga have to answer endless questions about their eyes.

Akamaru lets out a distressed sound, and he runs a soothing finger over the puppy’s back. He’s a bit worried that it’s too soon to bring Akamaru out, but the puppy had wanted to come with him.

“Stop it!”

Everyone’s gaze moves to Hinata whose face turns bright red. To her credit, the Hyuuga heiress doesn’t shrink, instead choosing to raise her head higher.

“It doesn’t matter if he can’t hold a sword. Sakura doesn’t either! Akamaru is one of us now,” Hinata says sternly.

“But—”

“It doesn’t matter. All Inuzuka have ninja dogs,” Neji cuts in with a disapproving frown. “Their dogs are also as intelligent as us. Akamaru will be able to play.”

So serious, these Hyuuga kids. He sends them both a wide grin and gets small smiles in return. Akamaru lets out a stronger sound, and he thinks the puppy is satisfied with their new friends.

(Out of everyone who benefits from being a knight, it’s Hinata and Neji that seem to have grown the most. He couldn’t be more proud)

“Let me know when Akamaru’s ready, and I’ll perform the naming. Now, I think we left off with Chouji,” Sakura speaks up, tapping her shiny new staff against the ground pointedly.

Chouji lights up immediately, eyes practically glowing in excitement. Shikamaru, looking for all the world like he needs to lay down right this moment, straightens out of a slouch next to Chouji.

“Tristan and I decided to go on a quest to find Morgana’s Fare,” her dinner, Chouji means, “and have decided it’s in the Akimichi district. It’s a long, perilous journey. Would it be alright if everyone went?”

Chouji directs the last part shyly to all of them instead of solely at Naruto. He’s pretty sure they’re being asked if they’d like to go eat at Chouji’s clan grounds. He’d be an idiot to turn down food made by the Akimichi.

“You have my blade,” he promises, settling Akamaru onto the top of his head. “Gaheris’ too.”

“Everyone’s going! It’s too dangerous for only Tristan and Percival!” Naruto decides with a nod.

“Can you wait and let us agree first?” Sasuke scowls, crossing his arms.

Undoubtedly the Uchiha wanted to say a cool one-liner.

“Too late. Your king has spoken,” Shikamaru deadpans. “Let’s go before the food gets cold.”

They head off, loud and boisterous with Chouji leading the way. They get stared at by nameless people on the street—whether it’s because of their group size, clan backgrounds, wooden swords strapped to their backs, or Naruto, he doesn’t know—but he finds that none of the children seem to mind it.

How bizarre, he thinks. Sakura leans in and begins running future quest ideas by him, and then he finds himself not paying attention to it either.

(Chouji brings them to his house. Most of them forget their manners before the food even gets served as they never drop out of game mode, but Chouza’s beaming smile is steady)

The peaceful days don’t last, or should he say, _his_ peaceful days don’t last. It begins, as he’s starting to fear, with a girl. It’s always a girl.

He’s meeting with Sakura, having finally been trusted to get to her house by himself. No Gawain and Myrddin this time, just Kiba and Sakura, two friends wanting to hang out and talk.

He gets kidnapped halfway there.

It’s not that he doesn’t see it coming, he’s got a nose and Akamaru’s painful tugging on his hair to warn him. It’s for all that chakra enhances him to supernatural heights, he’s still an in-training four year old that can barely keep his eyes open once it gets dark.

“Sorry about this,” the man tells him with a gentle smile, sprinting across the rooftops at a maddening speed, “but she’s not going to stop until she gets to talk to you. Don’t worry. Your mother has already been informed.”

He doesn’t get to ask for further clarification. The arm around his stomach is knocking the air out of him, and his focus is to keep Akamaru from falling off. It feels like forever, but they eventually land in front of what can only be described as a manor.

He shifts Akamaru into his arms out of paranoia once his feet hit the ground. The scents here are new; he’s never been near here before. He takes a deep breath and follows the man into the house, tense with the knowledge that there’s no running for it.

“Sir,” his kidnapper brings him to what can only be described as an office, “I’ve brought the Inuzuka heir as you requested.”

There’s a man with long, blond hair in a ponytail sitting behind a desk. The man’s eyes seem to look into his very soul, and he doesn’t hesitate to bare his teeth.

“Scaring him unnecessarily while doing so, I see,” the man behind the desk comments dryly. “Try to be a bit more careful, Akiyo. I wouldn’t want to see you get bit.”

His kidnapper leaves with a bow, abandoning him to the man with the uncanny gaze. He places Akamaru back onto his head and drops to the floor into an unsightly sprawl. The desk hides him from view; the man will have to stand up to talk to him.

“Fair enough,” the man sighs in response. “I’ll get you a chair.”

He crosses his arms and waits. He should be enjoying snacks and juice right now. Sakura’s undoubtedly worrying her head off too.

It’s not until he’s seated in a more equal setting, that the man introduces himself. He’s not surprised in the slightest. Pages of a manga burned into his brain make it obvious enough.

“I am Yamanaka Inoichi, and I have a request,” Inoichi says. “I have a daughter your age, Ino, that’s been unwell. Recently, she’s been making, ah, _inquiries_ about your play group.”

Judging by the sound of it, Ino’s probably been making life miserable for her father. He’s not against another kid joining, but something seems off. What does Inoichi mean by unwell?

“I’d like to ask that you tell her she can’t join your group.” Inoichi, noticing his surprise, hurries to add, “She’s very unwell thanks to a chakra accident. She needs to stay home for treatment, but she’s refusing it until she can talk to you.”

If Inoichi is uncomfortable talking to him like an adult, the man doesn’t show it. Inoichi waits patiently for an answer. He narrows his eyes in thought. He can’t pin down the why, but something is truly off about this situation.

“I’ll talk to her,” is all he promises.

“Tsume tells me you are remarkably mature,” the Inoichi pauses, fingers lacing together. “Before you speak to her, there’s something you should know about Ino.”

The man is clearly hesitating on continuing. He tilts his head and does his best to convey “I’m listening” to the fretting father.

What Inoichi has to say is astonishing.

He’s not quite sure what to do when he finds himself forced into Ino’s bedroom and into a silent staring contest. The girl stares him down with the same eerie gaze that belongs to her father. Akamaru’s paws flex against his hair, and he lessens the tension in his shoulders.

“You’re the one who started the Knights of the Round Table. That’s what my sources tell me,” Ino tells him without preamble.

She never blinks.

“Sources?” He raises his eyebrows.

“My mother,” Ino admits shamelessly.

“Yeah, that’s right. I started it,” he says.

“So you’re like her. Like _me_ ,” Ino utters, eyes darkening.

He watches the way Ino’s eyes flicker, and the pieces that Inoichi handed him fall into place. He thinks he knows the real reason why Ino’s called him here, why she won’t leave her bedroom until talking to him.

“So, you woke up here too?” He asks with false casualness. “Did you ever read a manga called ‘Naruto?’ ”

Ino finally blinks. She makes a noise in her throat, and then, to his alarm, starts to rapidly blink. Oh crap. He tries to figure out how he could have possibly offended her. He can’t think of anything.

“It’s not just us. Sakura woke up here too,” he tells her. “The knights thing is kind of our way of keeping a piece of the old world, you know?”

To his horror, his words only make things worse. Ino bursts into tears, and Akamaru whines at the noise. Why does everyone outside his family want to cry all the time? Flashbacks of Neji prompt him to wrap Ino into a hug.

It’s apparently the right thing to do as Ino hugs back, clutching him so tightly it’s sure to leave bruises.

“She’s real,” Ino sobs against his shoulder, and for a moment, he swears he hears two voices. “ _She’s real_.”

Ino mumbles many broken sentences, and he catches a few things he’s not meant to hear. He’s not sure he’s got the whole picture, but he waits until she’s mostly calm to say,

“Abby is who you were. Ino is who you are.”

He hopes it’s the right thing to say since it starts off another crying session. Next time he gets kidnapped, he’s kicking the crap out of someone, he swears. 

“Come on, I need to talk to my dad,” Ino sniffles, finally letting him go.

He follows Ino out of the bedroom and back to where he first met Inoichi. He’ll never know what was said that day, having waited outside for privacy’s sake, but Ino exits the office holding her father’s hand after a long while.

“Dad’s taking us to Sakura’s house. What kind of food does she like?” Ino asks, eyes bright.

To say Sakura and Ino hit it off…would be incorrect.

“You can’t be Lady of the Lake,” Sakura scowls. “It makes no sense!”

“I want to be someone important!” Ino scowls back.

“Sir Bors,” Sakura manages to say with a straight face.

He bites into a piece of dango, and watches Ino’s face darken. Bors was an important knight, the only one to come back from the Holy Grail quest in fact, but—

“I can understand English, forehead girl,” Ino sneers.

“Why do you want to be the Lady of the Lake?” He hurries to ask before Sakura can say another word.

“I only know Merlin, Arthur, Lancelot, and the Lady of the Lake,” Ino says to him cheerfully, mangling every word and with no frown in sight. “I’m not like you two nerds.”

Girls, he thinks, are scary creatures. He halves the last dango stick, and places the pieces on Ino’s and Sakura’s plates as a sacrifice of appeasement. His way of making sure they’re on his side.

“Look, Lady of the Lake is Myrddin’s girlfriend and that’s not happening,” Sakura says, tearing into the dango absentmindedly.

“You’re right,” Ino nods, biting into her own, “I can do _so_ much better.”

Akamaru lets out a concerned squeak, and he gently pats the puppy’s back. He understands his partner’s concern, but there’s no stopping these two. The both of them are too much alike.

“We can change up the Lady of the Lake just like we did with shayari,” he suggests before things get out of hand. “Ino can be Nimue, Myrddin’s apprentice who doesn’t have a love interest. Who joins to make sure King Arturus isn’t abusing her sword, Excalibur.”

“Fine,” Sakura grumbles, “but you’re still just my apprentice. I’ll always be stronger than you.”

It’s a lie; the Lady of the Lake is the one who ends up imprisoning Merlin for all time, but judging from Ino’s expression, the Yamanaka doesn’t know enough to think otherwise.

He decides to let it go.

“Good to meet you, Nimue,” he grins and holds up his cup in mockery of a toast. “Welcome to the Knights of the Round Table.”

Ino’s and Sakura’s cups clang against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll stop eventually.


	21. Gaining Knighthood 5

Ino, having decided to go all in, gets her father to buy a staff like Sakura’s. As this is a ninja village, the staffs are actually practice weapons for small children. Of course, it being Ino, her staff is far nicer and decorative than Sakura’s.

Sakura doesn’t take this in stride.

“That pig,” Sakura snarls with paint dripping down her cheek. “Who does she think she is?”

He hums in place of a real response and moves a perilous placed paint can away from the disaster zone. An old bed sheet covers the floor, but he doesn’t feel like chancing it. Sakura is too busy scowling down at her splotchy-looking staff to notice him cleaning up around her.

“She keeps trying to one up me!” Sakura huffs. “It’s not enough that she’s a mage too, but she’s even—”

“Crazier than you?” He says dryly, interrupting the oncoming rant.

It works. His words stop Sakura in her tracks, but the frown on her face becomes deeper. The atmosphere in Sakura’s bedroom shifts. He can almost feel the heaviness settling around them like a blanket.

“Do you think the others have noticed it?” Sakura asks quietly.

He thinks of Ino’s ever shifting mood, and the eyes that seem to constantly flicker between two shades of color. He thinks of how young Ino seems to be one moment before suddenly changing into someone so old.

“I don’t think so. They’re just children. They don’t understand a lot of things,” he eventually replies with.

The only ones who know about Ino’s other personality are the Yamanaka and the two of them. Even then, only Sakura and he know the reality of Ino’s situation. Why the three of them have days where they meet up and talk in hushed voices.

“Well, at least their vocabulary is improving,” Sakura says with false cheer. “I think we may have given the Hokage a stroke with Naruto though.”

“Knights don’t lisp,” he says wryly.

He allows her this change in subject. It’s uncomfortable to think about how they could have ended up like Ino, much less talk about it.

They end up chatting about anything and everything that comes to mind during the wait for Sakura’s staff to dry. He likes Ino well enough, but he truly treasures the days when it’s only the two of them.

(Sakura is his best friend for life, he’s decided. Since Ino is so caustic towards Sakura, that means he’s also her best friend for life. Sakura doesn’t get to have an opinion on this one)

They do eventually end up discussing heavier topics. It’s hard not to when their reality has a set story written for them.

“How do you think Naruto’s going to win over his enemies since he can’t relate to them?” He asks as Sakura looks over the staff with a critical eye.

“I don’t know. We’ve messed things up so much,” Sakura bites her lip. “He might not be able to win over anyone. We’ll all probably die by sand monster or pain monster.”

Sakura’s entire form radiates doom and despair, and he stares at her in disbelief. For someone so smart, he thinks, she sure can be an idiot sometimes.

“Naruto? Our Naruto?” He asks as if needing clarification. “The same Naruto who managed to convince both Itachi and Shisui to pretend to be Morgana’s henchmen and take us all out to eat?”

That had been a day. The two Uchiha had been on official clan duty when the group had bumped into them, but Naruto wouldn’t take no for answer. He’s never seen so many angry, old Uchiha at one time, but Sasuke, Itachi and Shisui had seemed absurdly pleased despite the public dressing down.

Neither Itachi nor Shisui regretted it if their continued presence is any indication.

“Maybe he’s still stupidly charismatic,” Sakura concedes, “but there’s just too much change. What if nothing goes right?”

“What do you mean by right?” He asks. “Because from where I’m standing, it just means we’re living life as it comes like normal people.”

Sakura goes quiet, and he takes the time to check on Akamaru. His partner is downstairs with Sakura’s mother who adores the puppy. Akamaru, having not learned to dull the senses yet, can’t stand the smell of paint.

He finds Akamaru curled up on in Mrs. Haruno’s lap, listening to her reading a book. He gets a plate of apple slices and a reminder to air out Sakura’s room once they're done with their project.

Sakura looks to be having an epiphany by the time he gets back.

“Alright,” Sakura says to her hands, “okay.”

She doesn’t expand on her words. He settles down next to her and waits. Sakura’s mind, he’s come to find, is always going in three directions at once. He wonders which way she’s decided on.

“We’re taking control of this story,” Sakura tells him with no uncertainty, green eyes daring him to argue. “I’m the game master here, and what I say goes. If we’re throwing everything out the window, we may as well burn it.”

Oh good, it’s the scary direction.

“I’m going to focus on learning seals and forging Naruto into the Hokage he’s meant to be,” Sakura informs him. “I’m going to make it so Sasuke will regret even _thinking_ about leaving. Orochimaru can’t put a curse seal on him if I do it first.”

Very scary apparently. Sakura’s eyes glint, and for a moment he sees the spark that hovers between genius and madness. Ino may be crazier than Sakura, but it’s honestly not by much.

“Guess I better step up my game skills then and become unbeatable during the day,” he says. “I’ll be the brawns to your brains.”

As nightmarish as the thought is, his mother won’t say no to beating the clan techniques into him. He’s not cut out for things like seal work, but he can definitely watch Sakura’s back. Maybe he can even be the loud distraction while she hides in the shadows.

“But first, how about we go get our missing—”

“Fine,” Sakura cuts him off with a huff, “if it will stop you from bugging me about it. It’s been weeks!”

He almost dances in victory. He’s been begging Sakura to agree to finish their collection for what feels like forever. A smile tugs at Sakura’s lips, and the hint of madness in her eyes recedes to another time.

(The result of Sakura’s staff’s new look is too terrible, and he can’t ignore it. He takes over and paints over the mess, etching in nostalgic symbols with a fine brush once dry. If Sakura recognizes them from a dying culture, she doesn’t say anything)

He doesn’t waste time and corners his mother at breakfast the next day.

“You want what?” Ma chokes.

“Can you take me to the Aburame clan grounds?” He repeats.

“Brat, I am busy—”

“Then could you take me when you’re not?”

His mother’s face would be funny if he didn’t know just thinking so would earn her ire. He does his best to keep his puppy dog eyes going strong. At least being tiny has some benefits. Akamaru backs him up and lets out a pathetic whine.

“Why?” Ma asks as if the world is crumbling around their table.

He knows he’s got her when his mother takes that tone; Kuromaru does too if that huff is anything to go by.

“I want the whole set,” he answers honestly.

His mother looks like someone told her the ninken have turned into cats. Like death basically. He keeps pleading with his eyes, and Ma lets out an aggravated sigh.

“Damn it, fine. Don’t come crying to me when you find you can’t stand ‘em,” Ma warns.

(As much as his mother hates his friendship with the other clan heirs, Ma acknowledges there’s no changing his mind. He’s going to get the Aburame heir with or without her help)

The Aburame compound is different from his. Instead of grassy plains and dogs, there’s an amazing amount of vegetation and bugs that cover every inch of space. The different types of plants are most likely for the bugs' benefit, but it has the effect of giving the clan grounds an exotic look.

“Shibi, get the hell out here!” Ma hollers.

He flinches from behind his mother, and Akamaru lets out a small whimper from atop his head. The Aburame holding them up curls defensively, and he gives them a sympathetic look.

His mother is terrifying on a good day.

“Tsume,” is the stern greeting.

The stare down between his mother and Shibi dissolves from there, turning into a bizarre trade of words.

“Oi, you bastard, took you long enough!” “My apologies. You’re inability to wait slipped my mind.” “Ah, forgot how much of a _bastard_ you could be.” “I believe it is your clan that deals with bastards.”

Honestly, the two of them must be good friends to want to stand out here and cut each other down. Ma would never willingly remain in the presence of someone she hated. It’s probably the same for Shibi.

“Oi, was that a knock on my kid?” Ma snarls, fingers moving threateningly.

Yeah, he’s on his own. Giving the two adults one last glance, he walks towards what he assumes is the main house. The other Aburame makes no move to stop him.

He never makes it to the house; his attention gets caught by something shining in the bushes. On inspection, it appears to be some type of bug that shines like metal. It flies off, and he chases after it without thinking.

As if by fate, he finds himself staring at a tiny child practically swimming in an oversized jacket. Sunglasses stare back at him, and he tries to gauge whether this is the kid he’s looking for. For all he knows, this could be another Aburame child.

“Jeweled beetle,” the boy suddenly says.

He blinks and tilts his head. The sudden pain in his hair reminds him of Akamaru’s position.

“It’s a jeweled beetle. What you were chasing,” the boy clarifies at his confusion.

He nods as if enlightened. The boy says nothing else, and they’re left in an uncomfortable staring contest. Nothing in his memory helps him figure out the kid’s identity.

Oh well, he’s never been one for subtle.

“You Shino?” He asks.

The boy hesitates before giving him the shallowest of nods. He grins, pleased. Akamaru’s tiny tap reminds him to continue speaking instead of standing there like a weirdo.

“I’m Kiba,” he says, “and I want to be your friend.”

Maybe it sounds cheesy, but it’s true. All the Knights are his friends.

“Why?” Shino asks, stunned.

There’s a hundred ways to answer this. He could make up something about their parents, or he can deliver a one-liner that would make Sasuke seethe with jealousy. He settles for the truth.

“All the clan kids our age meet up and play. We play make believe and have fun. Most of us don’t have any friends outside each other, so,” he shrugs, “I’d like you to join.”

He doesn’t say that he wants to get to know his potential teammate, that he’s looking forward to the changes Rookie 9 being friends bring.

“What is it. That you mean by ‘make believe?’ ” Shino asks tentatively.

He explains the game in detail, leaving nothing out. He talks about the rules, the names, and even the other players. It’s just a gut feeling, but he believes he has a bigger chance of winning Shino over with more information rather than less.

“It sounds. Fun,” Shino speaks haltingly once he’s finished, “but you do not want me.”

It’s his turn to raise his eyebrows and ask, “Why?” The solemnness he gets in return to his question is far too heavy for one so young.

“I can do _this_.”

Bugs crawl out of every visible portion of Shino’s skin and down the Aburame’s jacket. He has to admit, for a moment, he can feel his spine tingle at the sight. He clamps down on the feeling and sends Shino an unimpressed look.

“Yeah, we all have clan techniques except for Naruto and Sakura. It’s nothing I didn’t know about,” he says calmly even as Akamaru whimpers softly at the changing scents.

“You’re afraid,” Shino says stubbornly.

He’s close to rolling his eyes actually. Honestly, it is a pretty chilling sight, but it’s one he’ll get used to after four or five times.

“You’re making my nose itch,” he replies, “but no. Not afraid.”

He means it. The kid in front of him looks ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. It’s actually making him want to extend his claws and keep his prey from escaping.

“The others will. Be afraid of me,” Shino says with certainty.

“And they’ll get over it,” he says just as certain. “Give up, I already picked your name, so you have no choice.”

He should have just gone this route to begin with. The Uzumaki Naruto route of “You’re my friend cause I say so, no take backs.” Shino seems to be at a loss for words. That’s okay; he can talk for the both of them.

“I already ran it past Sakura, so welcome to the Knights of the Round Table, Sir Kay,” he says with a fist over his heart.

He thought about Shino’s name for days. He wants Shino to be an important knight, yet Sir Kay was most famous for being cruel and disliked despite being intensely loyal.

The original version of Sir Kay had no such hang-ups however and was terrifying with incredible powers. Well, it’s not like Sakura’s the only one who can bend the rules.

“But—”

“Hey, question. Do you cry a lot?” He interrupts whatever unimportant thing Shino was about to say.

“No,” Shino answers in bewilderment.

“Scream a lot? Throw a fit? Secretly crazy? Takes naps when no one’s watching and lies about it?”

“No,” Shino repeats woodenly.

“You are now my favorite,” he decides.

(And it’s true. Shino is different to the others. Unlike them, he chose Shino. His Ma understands this better than anyone; her face drops the moment he walks up to her still arguing with Shibi, one arm wrapped around Shino’s)


	22. Gaining Knighthood 6

Sakura is true to her word: she begins to practice calligraphy and spends more time advising Naruto. It’s subtle, but Myrddin’s careful questions and thought exercises are helping King Arturus take control of the battlefield and his knights.

In response to Sakura’s determination, he ups the physical exertion for their playtime. Duels are now mandatory, and everything from swords to clan techniques are allowed. He loses his wooden sword to Neji’s palm strike one day, and his mother buys him a more suitable replacement.

(“If you were going to give it up, you would of by now,” Ma grouses, watching him go through a stack of training swords with narrow eyes.

He goes through a basic form Itachi taught him with a smaller sword. It’s got a much better grip, but he sort of misses the length and weight of his old one. Turning away from traditional ninja swords, he eyes the more unique variety. He ends up getting a child’s training broadsword.

“Can’t believe it, a _kenjutsu_ user,” Ma says sourly. “An expensive one at that!”

He doesn’t take it to heart. He’s already expressed interest in the traditional clan techniques which is the only thing his mother cares about. He won’t be the first Inuzuka sword user either. It’s going to be fun combining the two fighting styles.)

They let Ino in on their new game plan, and the Yamanaka meets them beautifully. Under the watchful eye of a fellow clansman, Nimue begins lessons on connecting to chakra—something all Knights must know, she insists.

It’s not world-breaking, but it’s going to give everyone an advantage in the academy. Less so for Neji, Sasuke, and Shikamaru who already have a good handle on their chakra, but it does wonders for the rest of them.

(“This is dumb,” Naruto whines, hands clasped together.

“Oh?” Sakura’s eyes glint dangerously. “Is the King complaining? What are you going to do when your knights are better at ninjutsu than you?”

“Let him whine,” Neji chips in. “The King doesn’t need ninjutsu.”

“It doesn’t matter since I’ll be better at it anyways,” Sasuke agrees.

“It’s okay, King Arturus. You don’t need to be the strongest. I’ll protect you,” Chouji says loyally, hammering in the final nail.

Naruto’s face balloons with anger. Akamaru lets out a snickering bark, and he bites part of his fist to hold in his laughter. Connecting to chakra is a lot like meditating; of course an absurdly young Naruto would have a hard time with it, never mind an older one.

“Leave me alone, I’m connecting!” Naruto snaps, closing his eyes with a scowl.

Sakura’s waves everyone away with a smirk, and Ino starts the lesson over from the beginning. If there’s one benefit this Naruto has, he thinks as he shuts his own eyes, it’s friends willing to simultaneously shower and threaten encouragement.)

It’s not all work however. He makes sure to have fun while he still can. Helping Naruto learn how to prank those people who whisper “demon” with cold eyes, prodding Shikamaru into finding games that everyone can play, catching bugs with Shino, trying new candies with Chouji—these are the memories he presses deeply into his heart for the rest of his life.

(He leans against the building with his arms crossed. Shino stands stiffly next to him, and they both watch the people streaming by with critical eyes. Technically, they’re on patrol. Not that they can do anything if something happens, but King Arturus’ orders are absolute unless Myrddin overrules them.

Akamaru shifts and screams start up from the shop across the street. He smirks as the infuriated yelling causes any curious onlookers to hurry away.

“I do believe,” Shino pauses, “that this goes against shayari.”

Shino’s getting better at speaking, but the Aburame still talks with a stilting speech. Still, victory to him for getting Shino to speak on a regular basis. The others still can’t pull more than five words out of the kid.

“I’d say this is justice,” he says with a grin.

Akamaru lets out an agreeing yip, and Shino gives him an unimpressed look. He soaks in the furious ranting that can be heard faintly and goes back to people watching in earnest.

“Setting off paint bombs. Destroying merchandise for overcharging on accident?” Shino asks, frowning.

It wasn’t an accident. Naruto’s been overcharged since the idiot started shopping there. Not by much, not enough to make any of Naruto’s minders notice and step in, but it burns to know how much the kid’s been swindled.

“Sis helped with the bombs. Let me tell you why,” he says.

Perhaps he should have explained before dragging Shino into being his partner in crime, but how awesome is it that this kid is willing to plant the paint bombs while he does distraction without knowing anything? True friendship right here.)

The first point of change comes when Neji expresses a desire to enter the academy a year later than his age group. Specifically, Neji wants to enter with the rest of the group and share the same class.

“Are they going to let you?” He asks, knowing the Hyuuga will understand what he means.

“They will when I say it’s to protect Lady Hinata,” Neji replies back evenly.

Hiashi will most likely not deny this request despite what the elders may say; Neji’s and Hinata’s quiet friendship seems to strike a nostalgic chord with the Hyuuga head. It had been strange seeing so much emotion on the man’s face at Hinata’s birthday celebration.

“You’re going to thrash me and Sasuke,” he says with humor. “The teacher will have to sit on him during class to keep him from taking revenge.”

It takes both Sasuke and him teaming up to have an even fight with Neji. He can only imagine how in-class sparring will go. Neji’s a genius for a reason; it’s actually a bit concerning that the Hyuuga won’t have anyone to challenge him during class.

(“Well, it’s obvious isn’t it?” Ino says, placing four cards down. “Got any twos?”

Sakura lets out a curse and hands over a playing card. He taps his thigh with a pout. Between Sakura and Ino, he barely gets a turn. Akamaru yawns from his lap.

“What is?” He asks.

“Just go get his rival,” Ino replies before holding out a hand towards him. “Twos?”

He gives her the card with a sigh. He wonders what possessed him to agree to this game. He’s just glad it isn’t poker. He can only imagine what _that_ would be like.

“Lamorak?” Sakura suggests before turning to Ino with bared teeth. “Go fish, hah!”

He lets out a noncommittal hum. Lamorak had quite the temper and physical ability which could work, but it doesn’t quite match up with what he has in mind.)

Finding Rock Lee is harder than he’d thought it would be. He has no doubt he’ll recognize the boy, not with such a unique face, but Konoha is huge. With the exception of Shino, everything until now has been pure chance, and Lee doesn’t belong to any clan to make hunting him down easier.

Shino helps him track the unknown boy with only a vague description and without question. He’s not sure why wanting a boy with a weird-looking face to join the group because he felt like it works, but together, they manage to find Lee under the guise of screening through potential recruits.

“He’s over there. You simply can’t miss those eyebrows. I’m sure he’ll be happy to make some friends for once,” the woman smiles at them condescendingly before walking off.

Akamaru lets out a sniff from the top of his head, and he watches the lady disappear with disgust. She had all but cooed over him as if he was a brainless kid with a puppy. Sometimes he forgets how young he is.

“Doesn’t something seem off with wanting a stranger cause of their face?” He asks in disbelief.

“It isn’t a lie,” Shino points out.

He gives up the argument before it even begins. It’s not like he can explain the need for Lee to keep their resident genius from leaving for crazy town.

They find the boy doing chin-ups with a broken fence. Sweat dribbles down into bizarrely round eyes, and a long braid of black hair swings back and forth with each movement. He knows without a doubt that this is Rock Lee.

He reaches up to give Akamaru a scratch and takes a breath. He hates giving speeches, but this is for Neji.

“Hey, got a minute?” He calls out, causing the boy to pause.

The recruitment speech doesn’t go well, and Shino disappears halfway through. He tries to convince a hard-headed Lee that joining has benefits to no avail.

“Thank you, but I cannot! I must work hard if I am to get into the academy!” Lee declares, pumping both fists.

He frowns, unsure of how to proceed from here. It’s not like he didn’t know there was a chance to be rejected, but he doesn’t quite have the patience to wear down Lee’s resolve either.

“Nothing I say can change your mind?” He asks.

Lee’s head shakes, and he knows there is nothing he can do. The boy turns away from him, going back to the fence. He’s got Lee’s scent, so maybe he can track the kid down another day, preferably with Naruto.

Shino suddenly appears next to him, arms laden down with—

“Is that rope?” He asks incredulously.

“Let us take him to Naruto,” Shino says, sunglasses glinting.

(Lee doesn’t see them coming. Perhaps it’s a coward’s way to strike from behind, but they are both training to be ninja. They’re simply…fulfilling the mission objective)

He grabs a hogtied Lee’s arms, and Shino grabs Lee’s legs. They find the weight heavy but manageable. The boy watches them with even wider eyes, making no effort to speak around the gag.

“Sorry about this, but you’ll understand when you meet him,” he offers to Lee.

“I am not sorry. I went through effort to find you,” Shino says flatly.

Akamaru lets out quiet laughter, and he tries not to cackle. He stands by his previous statement: Shino is his favorite.

“What’s his name?” Shino asks as if they aren’t carrying a tied up Lee down the very public street.

“Brunor,” he answers.

(“Brunor?” Sakura repeats with eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know that one.”

“He got rejected from the Knights of the Round Table because of his looks. He was always made fun of, but he was a great guy. His awesome rescues proved his worth in the end,” he tells her.

“Yeah, that’s Lee alright,” Sakura smiles.)


	23. Gaining Knighthood 7

“I’m going, Ma!” Her tiny kid yells, slamming the door even though she’s told him not to almost every day.

She snorts and throws the dishes into the sink for Hana to clean. One day that girl will snap and demand fair treatment, but she’s got news for darling daughter: she’s the mother here. What she says goes.

She’ll only listen to complaints once there are grandchildren running around. The whining over raising hellions will be hilarious for sure, and it’ll practically be music to her ears. Retribution for what she has to go through, she’ll say with a smirk.

(What she’ll never say is that she hopes to live long enough to see her grandchildren whose existence means her children will get to live on)

“We should get going too,” Kuromaru reminds her.

She lets out a huff at the ninken. She’s not old enough to have memory problems or young enough to need a minder. Kuromaru rolls his one eye at her.

While her teeth ache to tear the throat out of Konoha’s enemies, the mission desk will have to wait another day. She journeys to the Yamanaka grounds with Kuromaru following her flicker technique flawlessly. They slip into the compound unnoticed by all.

Her target leaves a window open, and she doesn’t bother announcing her presence or even knocking. Inoichi startles by the sudden intrusion in his home office but manages to clamp down on any obvious reactions. She only knows thanks to the subtle change in scent.

“Alright, start talking. What’s so important that you’re going around the official channel?” She barks out, leaning against his desk, arms crossed.

“There’s a perfectly good chair right there,” Inoichi points out dryly.

To spite him, Kuromaru climbs onto it without a word. The chair disappears under the ninken’s large frame. She raises an eyebrow at the Yamanaka.

“Cordial as ever, Tsume,” Inoichi remarks.

“Get on with it. I didn’t follow your convoluted directions for a chat and tea,” she tells him.

She’s good, but stealth really isn’t her strength. The only way she managed to sneak in was to follow the trail laid out for her. Of course, it’s not sneaking if the clan head _wants_ you to infiltrate their home without being seen.

“Fugaku isn’t happy that his children spend so much time with ours,” Inoichi says with a sigh.

“Fugaku ain’t happy about a lot of things,” she snorts. “So what?”

The man hadn’t been the life of the party before getting shunned to the village’s outskirts, but Fugaku was downright ornery now. She can’t say he doesn’t deserve it; instead of reaching out to prove his clan steadfast and loyal, Fugaku went the other way without so much as a backward glance.

“How sure are you that the Uchiha situation is getting worse?” Inoichi asks, seemingly changing topics.

She knows better of course. Inoichi is many things, but scatterbrained isn’t one of them. He wouldn’t have dragged her away from work to gossip.

“They’re about to explode like a crudely drawn explosion tag,” she tells him. “The police force is weakening themselves on purpose.”

She would know; she’s been tasked with watching the Uchiha. It’s off the record of course, but who better to be Konoha’s watchdogs than her clan? Who better qualified to rip off the traitors’ legs than her?

Inoichi leans back with a thoughtful hum. She taps her arm with impatience. Just her luck that the Yamanaka wants to play at being roundabout today.

“Do you believe our children will remain friends throughout the academy?” Inoichi suddenly asks.

“As much as I believe their game is only a phase,” she says flatly.

Inoichi winces, and Kuromaru lets out a snicker. The only ones who take the so-called game seriously are the ones in this room. Even Shikaku, stubborn fool, thinks that the academy will straighten the children out of this “knight” thing.

She wants to see his face the moment he realizes Shikamaru will be needing kenjutsu training.

“I may have something of an idea that involves the children,” Inoichi admits. “Perhaps it’ll only slow down the situation or affect nothing at all.”

She glares as the Yamanaka trails off with a pensive expression. If he thinks he can just mention her kid and stop there, he’s got another thing coming.

“This better be good, Inoichi,” she says, slamming a hand against the desk.

Inoichi only hesitates for a second a longer. She likes to believe it’s her womanly charms that convinces him to speak up.

“Tell me, what do you think about Uchiha Itachi becoming a kenjutsu instructor?” Inoichi asks.

It takes her a moment to run that through her head.

“You’re kidding,” she says, disbelieving.

Inoichi’s face tells her he’s not.

“You want to make that shrimp a teacher? Are you mad?” She asks, checking him over for signs of snapping. “He’s _nine_.”

“They want him to take the chunin exams next year,” Inoichi tells her grimly. “We both know what happens to geniuses that are pushed to their limits.”

Oh, she knows alright. Kakashi is a prime example of that brand of crazy. The saner clans know to hide their more talented children away behind walls of smoke. For the clans like the Uchiha and Hyuuga however…

“You want to keep him from breaking?” She eyes Inoichi.

The man stares back evenly. No, that’s not right; Inoichi’s not that considerate. Especially if it involves his beloved daughter.

“You want control of Fugaku’s kid,” she says, switching tracks. “Both of his kids will be under our eyes. We can use ‘em as hostages.”

“I was thinking more of getting the future Uchiha clan head away from troublesome ideals and into a more _knightly_ one,” Inoichi says mildly.

She throws her head back and laughs. She only has a vague idea of what’s going on in that blond head of his, but she can already see Fugaku’s bulging eyes. Oh, this is going to be _good_.

“Fine, I’ll take the brat on,” she grins, “but I ain’t taking on those other two brats.”

“You already knew what I was going to ask?” Inoichi blinks.

“It’s obvious. Getting sloppy in your old age,” she says, grinning wider at Inoichi’s affronted look. “Now, who do I have to kill? You wouldn’t drag me here under secrecy otherwise.”

She never imagined having an Uchiha student—any student really, she’s never had the time—let alone Fugaku’s oldest son. Kuromaru lets out a displeased noise as the details get finalized.

“They smell like cats,” the ninken complains.

“Suck it up,” she says in response.

Her day ends up getting better too. Perhaps shopping for the weapons to be used in a planned murder isn’t the wisest decision she’s made, but as Inoichi’s paying for it, she intends to get the good stuff.

She’s not known for buying expensive wire, so maybe it’ll work out. She’s weighing her options between a throwing knife or a shuriken when her attention gets grabbed by an adorable midget.

“You have the same face marks as him, and you’ve got a dog!” Adorable midget approaches her with wide eyes.

She considers the little girl staring up at her in excitement. Hair twisted up in two buns and out of the face, no clan symbols, smells like weapons and grease—a ninja kid, but not a clan one.

A brave kid too, to approach her while she’s weapon shopping. She knows plenty of grown ninja that can’t say the same.

“You talking about Kiba?” She asks. “Gawain?” She tries at the girl’s blank look.

Yep, there it is. The girl’s face lights up, and the adorable midget begins _gushing_. Apparently her son cuts quite the heroic figure, able to save kittens and take down evil doers with a swing of the sword.

And also able to tie excellent knots on prisoners of war. It’s that last one that clues her in on the adorable midget’s true face.

“I need to join,” the girl declares. “I _have_ to.”

She could tell the girl where the brats tend to meet up to play. She could give her kid plenty of warning about potentially crazy fangirls. She could do a lot of things technically.

“If you’re in the mood for ramen, I think I’ll send him out for some tomorrow,” she says, grinning. “He likes aggressive girls the most.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General_Zargon - You guessed right.


	24. Gaining Knighthood 8

Becoming a knight is both worryingly easy and incredibly difficult. It’s a contradiction to be sure, but not even Sakura can disagree with how much their silly game influences them. He can’t speak for Ino, who keeps her silence with a mysterious smile, but the two of them are falling into their characters effortlessly.

He means in both ways. Sometimes he wakes up thinking: Kiba, future ninja of Konoha. Other times he wakes up ready to defend King and kingdom as Sir Gawain.

He would be anxious about becoming a samurai reject, but his mother and sister really are supportive of his life decisions. Perhaps a bit too supportive if his newest recruit is anything to go by.

“Girls can be ninja too!” Tenten cries, body language daring him to argue with her.

“Uh, yeah?” He agrees, unsure why this is in question. “Obviously? They have kunoichi classes, and you met my mother.”

He wondered why Ma threw him out the door with some money and an order to go eat at Ichiraku’s. Ma had an alarming smirk on her face as well. What kind of bizarre luck did have for this girl to have met his mother?

Still, he doesn’t quite understand Tenten’s reasons for wanting to join. Akamaru shifts on top of his head, and he moves the ninken into his arms. His partner is more sensitive to his moods; hopefully it means Akamaru is getting ready to speak.

“You’re mother’s so cool,” Tenten gushes before frowning, “but she’s the only one.”

He tilts his head in an unspoken question.

“My dad—I _heard_ ,” Tenten stresses, “that most girls grow up and marry or not fight. I want to be a ninja.”

Oh. He gets it now. It’s not something that comes to mind considering he’s constantly surrounded by women high up on the food chain, but he knows where Tenten is coming from. Sakura sure rants about it enough.

No matter how progressive the hidden villages are, women still have a stigma attached to them. Kunoichi are mainly valued as infiltrators and wives for ninja clans. Even the most powerful women are expected to retire into motherhood eventually.

“What’s that got to do with the Knights?” He asks, still confused over this point.

“I watch you a lot,” Tenten admits. “Everyone’s treated equally. You guys are strong, and you don’t make the girls stay away.”

That’s another thing he’s noticed. Children here like to divide themselves into groups by gender. It’s probably a subconscious mimicry of the adults around them. The exclusive kunoichi classes in the academy aren’t going to help that divide either.

“I’m not stupid enough to do that. My rival will probably be a girl,” he says flatly.

He believes it too. Hopefully he won’t meet her like he did Tenten—a pair of chopsticks flying by his ear followed by an empty bowl and a loud declaration.

“Right! So you have to let me join!” Tenten claps her hands together. “Please?”

He considers the wide, pleading eyes. Despite Naruto’s and Lee’s complaints, the Knights of the Round Table are now an exclusive group. “No new members!” Sakura and he declare after Lee’s formal knighting.

(“Surely we can spread shayari to other—”

“No, Brunor.”

“But new friends!”

“No, King Arturus.”)

Still, he thinks he can make room for one more.

“You’re going to need a name and a sword,” he ends up saying.

The beaming smile he gets back is potentially worth the headache of “But you said” he can already hear being thrown around. Still, he’s left with the impossible.

What _is_ he going to call Tenten?

(“Lamorak,” Sakura says immediately.

“Rejected,” he replies.

“It’s the only thing I’ve got,” Sakura cries, throwing her hands up in defeat.

He flops onto his back, grass digging into his arms and legs, to stare up at the sky. Akamaru’s paw reaches out to his leg, and Sakura huffs next to him. Sasuke’s one-sided bickering with Neji floats in the air like bad background music.

“How about Gingalin?” He asks.

“You’ll have to explain that one to me,” Sakura says.

He was originally put out that none of his friends fit Gingalin since it took months to remember the name. Tenten doesn’t quite fit it either, but it’s a closer match than anything else he could come up with.

“Gingalin, The Fair Unknown, had a lot of adventures that the other knights don’t know about. In fact, the knights don’t know a lot about him other than the fact that he’s pretty,” he tells her.

Sakura makes a face at him, and he shrugs.

“Gawain’s secret fairy child that he didn’t even know about. Go figure.”)

Lee and Tenten agree to wait and enter the academy alongside Neji. He wonders if it’s Naruto’s charisma or their accidental religious indoctrination that convinces the two.

(“It’s not a religion,” Sakura hisses between her teeth.

He raises his eyebrows and turns to where the majority of the group is. Neji and Ino aside, the rest of the Knights surround Naruto, who speaks from on top of a stump.

“It’s like a bowl of hot noodles,” Naruto croons, “filling, warm, and the reason to get up in the morning!”

He turns back to Sakura.

“Alright, maybe,” she concedes with a pinched expression.)

The days to the academy grow ever closer, and with it, comes even more change. Life is truly bizarre, he thinks while munching on a piece of egg and staring across the table. Uchiha Itachi stares back as if just as shocked as he is.

“My apprentice,” Ma announces. “You brats already know each other, so I ain’t making any fancy introductions.”

Well, okay then. Clearly something big has gone down behind the scenes, but he can’t fathom how this result came about. He resolves not to think about it—it’s his secret technique to avoid pulling out his hair.

“Sasuke wants a better bokken,” he says before stuffing his face.

“Perhaps when he gets taller,” Itachi remarks, making no move towards any of the food on the table.

Ma has no time for timidity; his mother all but shoves a plate full of breakfast into the Uchiha’s lap. Watching Itachi try to wrangle out of eating is more amusing than it should be. He makes sure Akamaru gets a good view.

“I don’t give a damn if you’re not hungry,” Ma growls. “You’re with _me_ now. Get that protein in you. I won’t have Fugaku crying about his brat passing out.”

Itachi loses the argument in the end. The Uchiha will eventually learn that no one wins when it comes to the demon that is his mother.

(Sasuke gets wind of Itachi’s new morning schedule. They gain another addition to their breakfast table immediately. Sasuke’s parents are less than pleased, or so he gathers from the chatter around him)

Against expectations, nothing happens until their entrance into the academy. He can’t say that it’s something life-changing. It’s more of a sudden realization.

“Say that again,” Neji commands darkly.

The kid in front of Neji pales and moves away from Hinata. The Hyuuga heiress is looking down at the ground, hands clasped together, but he knows it’s not out of shyness. The shaking isn’t out of fear either.

“Remember, only draw your sword for a worthy cause,” Neji tells Hinata softly.

Hinata nods and breathes deeply. She’s probably counting backwards from fifteen. It’s a little trick Ino taught her to calm down.

“I will show everyone the worth of shayari!” A loud yell grabs everyone’s attention.

“Calm down, Lee!” Tenten says with a shake of the head. “Actions, not words!”

Tenten begins moving into a martial arts form, and Lee copies her movements only a second later. It’s Tenten’s favorite way to quiet Lee down. No drawbacks, only benefits, she tends to say.

“Aw, come on! I’ll pay attention, I swear!” Naruto pleads to Sakura.

“You’ll get this back after class,” Sakura says, placing a manga book under her arm.

Sakura had the brilliant idea to teach Naruto reading by way of manga. It worked a little too well. Getting Naruto to _stop_ reading is Sakura’s new task. Naruto falls to his knees, crying out in despair to an unmoving Sakura.

He shakes his head. Good luck, Sakura.

“Hey, this is _my_ man. Don’t even look at him!” Ino snarls, arm looped with Sasuke’s.

He admires Sasuke’s poker face in spite of the situation. Every female in class is already vying for the Uchiha’s attention.

“Hey, Chouji, Shikamaru, get over here!” Ino yells, slowly moving Sasuke behind her.

No doubt Ino is helping solve Sasuke’s fangirl crisis before it even begins. Sasuke is used to the extraordinary girls of their group; the kid is completely unprepared for interacting with these normal, lovesick girls.

“Ugh, fine,” Shikamaru rolls out of a nearby bush, causing some of the girls to squeal in fright.

“Hey, Sasuke,” Chouji greets cheerfully, stepping out of the same bush far more gracefully.

“Chouji,” Sasuke acknowledges. “Shikamaru,” Sasuke says more blandly.

Shikamaru and Chouji stand in front of Ino, effectively blocking Sasuke from view. None of the girls feel brave enough to attempt to get past the new wall blocking them.

“The real journey begins here.”

He doesn’t jump, having caught the scent beforehand. Shino moves next to him, and Akamaru lets out a quiet bark in greeting. He brushes his shoulder with Shino’s, getting a slight buzzing sound in response.

“We’ll make it,” he says simply.

Maybe not as ninja, maybe not as knights either. Whatever they end up being, it’ll be enough to bring down Konoha’s enemies, of that he has no doubt.

“We’re the Knights of the Round Table after all,” he grins.


	25. Gaining Knighthood 9

“If Naruto and Sasuke have children, we can call them Mordred and Galahad,” Sakura whispers to him one day during class.

He pauses from doodling in his notebook to shoot Kono-sensei a wary look. The teacher is currently hissing through clenched teeth at Naruto—which will probably turn into a shouting match—so he considers Sakura’s silly remark.

“I doubt the game will go on that long,” he says even as Akamaru lets out a thoughtful sound from his lap.

He ends up being wrong of course, and the game really does carry on that far.

(“How?” He asks, taking care to speak quietly to avoid disturbing the bundle in his lap.

“I made them sign a contract when we became genin,” Sakura tells him smugly.

She’s holding her own precious cargo, and he lets out a soft laugh. Neither Naruto nor Sasuke would honor such a deal if they hadn’t wanted to name their kids after knights.

He strokes Mordred’s cheek lightly, taking amusement in the way the little face scrunches up at the feeling. Sakura reaches over to pinch his arm without jostling Galahad.

“If you make him scream again, I won’t help you this time,” Sakura says.

Save me, Akamaru whines while pawing at his leg frantically.

He smirks down at the ninken. Attached to Akamaru’s tail is a tiny fist. Slobbering on the other tiny fist is a toddler clothed in puppy-themed pajamas. Narrow eyes gaze into his, daring him to order the toddler to let go.

He gently pushes the brat away from Akamaru with his foot. The ninken lets out a sigh of relief, and the brat starts pouting. He snorts as the brat turns away with arms crossed.

“Too bad you didn’t go with Florence,” Sakura sighs. “We could have a complete set of mini-knights.”

“I will never name any of my kids Florence,” he says firmly. “I regret ever telling you about that.”)

He’s not the only one who thought their game would end at some point. From what Ma says later, most of their parents assumed they’d eventually give in to academy brainwashing.

His mother also laughed while telling him this, so he’s not sure if Ma ever believed it was just a phase.

(It was never a phase. The adults look at the swords and childish spouting of honor and justice with the word “samurai” on their tongues but never find an outside influence. Konoha has no idea what will end up hitting it)

The Uchiha Incident goes down much differently than it should have. It comes as a shock considering Sakura and he never came up with a way to divert the event. They tried their best, but it simply wasn’t possible for a bunch of six and seven year olds.

(“We’ve got our hooks in Itachi and Shisui, but there’s nothing we can do,” Sakura hisses, throwing two cards down. “We’re still too young to make a difference.”

“I’ll talk to Ma about giving Itachi lessons on psychological trauma,” he offers, unable to think of anything else.

Ino silently grabs a card from Sakura. The Yamanaka puts two cards down and offers her remaining card to him. He frowns at the three cards in his hands.

“Looks like you’re the old maid,” Ino says breezily.)

In the end, the Uchiha Incident does not refer to Itachi slaughtering the clan and leaving the village. What happens is the “murder” of every Uchiha elder during a suspicious meeting, the body of Danzo being discovered next to them, and Shisui gaining an eyepatch.

He has a theory involving Shisui’s special Sharingan ability, but he knows well enough to leave it alone.

They hide it well, but he’s too attuned to Uchiha body language to think that Shisui and Itachi’s bowed heads are out of anything other than satisfaction. His mother remains a grim figure throughout the incident, but there’s a proud gleam in her eye.

Fugaku, from the one time he’s seen the man, bows his head out of fear. He can’t say he blames the Uchiha head; his mother gets more terrifying by the day.

As for Sasuke—

“I’m going to overhaul the police force,” Sasuke vows over breakfast.

He pauses with a piece of leftover deer meat hovering near his mouth. Itachi and Shisui decline to say anything, choosing to hum peaceably while Ma lets out an acknowledging grunt.

“Why?” He asks when no one else does.

“I’ve been looking over reports for them during the,” Sasuke nods in place of words and he nods back, “but everything’s a mess. _Everything_. When I try to bring it up, they just tell me to forget about it. None of them are doing their jobs.”

He spots a familiar gleam in Sasuke’s eye. It’s the Sakura look, he thinks, and holds his breath.

“Everyone in the police force deserves to _die_ ,” Sasuke utters.

It’s said so darkly and seriously that it causes Shisui to actually choke. Itachi hurries to save Shisui’s life, and Ma laughs until she cries. Sasuke smirks ominously, and he wonders if the massacre has only been averted for the moment.

This is your fault, Akamaru tells him from the floor. He makes a face at the ninken.

Slander. He has nothing to do with the Uchiha Incident and Sasuke’s crusade against the police force. If anything, Ino’s the one that looks suspiciously smug.

(Later, he will eventually realize while he’s drinking some water that technically everything is his fault; he’s the one who started the game in the first place. He’ll spit the water out into someone’s face, leading to an international incident)

With most of the Uchiha still alive and no sign of Obito or Madara, life progresses relatively peacefully. Relatively, because while they might be nearing genin age, they’re still—

Lancelot sneers and throws the mission objective onto the ground. The sound of breaking glass echoes around the training ground, and the spell to defeat Morgana is ruined.

“Get him!” Nimue says ruthlessly.

Lacelot neatly avoids Nimue’s staff aimed at his legs only to run into Bedwyr and Lionel’s ambush of palm strikes. An explosive tag counterattacks the ambush, sending all three knights flying backwards.

“What are you doing, Lancelot? Don’t support the enemy!” King Arturus bellows, sword waving threateningly in the sunlight.

“Wait, is this about the bentos? Are you mad because we forgot you didn’t like natto?” Gingalin asks.

Lancelot’s scowl indicates that Gingalin hit the mark. Myrddin covers her face and lets out a frustrated noise. Nimue’s eyes roll, and Bedwyr stammers out an apology.

“Either meet my demands or fight me,” Lancelot taunts, posing coolly with a reverse styled sword.

“I have neither food nor restraint! I shall fight you!” Brunor announces.

“Oh for—Brunor, don’t encourage him!” Myrddin cries.

Brunor unsheathes his sword and dashes away. Lancelot barely gets a sword up in time to block, and a squawking King Arturus rushes to join in. The rest of the knights are left to either join or get out of the way.

“Can’t be helped. Lancelot’s just like that. Only a moron would get in the way now,” Tristan drawls.

“I respect a man that chooses to fight for food,” Percival says admiringly.

“I can’t respect someone who would destroy his own brother’s birthday gift,” Lionel scoffs.

The remains of the glass wind chime glitter mockingly. It had taken a solid month for everyone to agree on a collective gift for Itachi, and it only took Sasuke one selfish moment to break it.

“That wasn’t the gift we bought. Why? The one we bought had no brown spots on it,” Kay says, sliding in-between Percival and Lionel.

“Figures. The real one was probably switched out with another when we were looking at decorations,” Tristan sighs.

“Lancelot only pretended to destroy it by using a fake? But didn’t he have to order one just like it ahead of time? And isn’t that pretty expensive?” Percival asks

“He’d do it, the dramatic bastard,” he says, laughing.

The five of them watch the messy brawl for a long moment. Flashes of blades glint through the madness, and he feels his heart speed up. There are so many openings one could take advantage of.

What a bunch of noise over nothing, Gaheris barks, we should show them what a fight means.

“Sounds good,” he grins, unsheathing his sword.

Kay brushes his shoulder in solidarity, and Tristan lets out a groan. Whenever he gets involved, the intensity of the fights tends to climb to astounding levels. He also has a habit of making sure all the knights get involved.

He leaps forward with a laugh; Gaheris and Kay are only half a step behind him. His blood sings, and Lancelot’s blade meets his. He thinks, _I am Gawain_. He has never been happier.

(“Hey, Kiba,” Lord Hokage says through squinted eyes, “why do I have forms for an orphanage, a food reserve, a food stand, and a clinic?”

He scratches the back of his head and wonders how to phrase his statement to sound less like an impulse and better thought-out. Akamaru nudges him, and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“Konoha’s a nice place, but there’s a lot of problems outside of it. I want to see if I can help a little bit with our nation’s less fortunate,” he says.

He doesn’t say that he’s decided to take his name of Gawain seriously, doesn’t say that this is just the start of helping those struggling in poverty. That he woke up one day and realized he finally has enough to share.

“I’m assuming you know how much these will cost,” Lord Hokage mutters, tapping the huge paper stack.

Even if the food stand and clinic are low budget, he will be losing money. The orphanage and food reserve will be a constant a drain on him, and there will not be enough revenue from his other properties to make up for it. Not to mention the fees, building costs, and taxes.

“I’ve already got it figured out,” he promises.

The initial cost will be heavy, and he’ll probably end up taxing his clan a little bit more. Both Shikamaru and Sakura have given him ideas on how to recover however. Hopefully the little orphans like farming and vineyards.

“I’ll forward these to the Daimyo,” Lord Hokage says. “That guy’s an idiot, so it’ll take a while for him to get all the paperwork together.”

It’s amazing that the Hokage knows the Daimyo won’t reject any of his requests considering granting a ninja clan that much land outside of Konoha wouldn’t have been possible before.

“Schedule a meeting with me to talk about the details, and I’ll see about getting you assistance for this,” Lord Hokage says, waving a paper with the words ‘orphanage’ written on it.

He bites his tongue before he blurts out, “I’m not going to be brainwashing them to be ninja.”

“I’ll get with Sakura,” he says instead, taking the generous offer for what it is. “Thanks, King Arturus.”

Lord Hokage smiles, and he feels terrible for ever doubting Naruto. Konoha has undergone a new direction, so much so that he’s here trying to get orphanages and low cost clinics built instead of preparing for the next war.

It’s a long road from here, but you’re doing good, Akamaru tells him warmly.)

He still ends up in Team 8, and Sakura still goes to Team 7. In fact, everyone ends up in their original teams, but he doesn’t call it fate. He rather suspects the higher ups are trying to make sure they can’t contaminate other genin with their ideals.

Kurenai-sensei finds Team 8 weird but charming. Kakashi alternates between pretending to hate Team 7 and egging them on. Asuma still ends up with Shikamaru as a pet project, and Gai gets converted. That last one is as scary as it sounds.

“Lee wants you to give Gai-sensei a name,” Tenten says dully, eyes glazed over with trauma.

“If Itachi and Shisui don’t get one, neither does Gai,” he replies.

Akamaru curls up in Tenten’s lap to comfort her, and he rubs her back as Tenten tries and fails to recount her day. He feels for her; Tenten is the only sane member of Team 9.

Sakura and he stick to their “no new members” plan all the way until Suna’s invasion. To be fair, he can’t exactly turn down the request.

“Aren’t you supposed to be attacking us?” He asks, staring down at the blood covered rooftop.

He tries not to flinch as those blank green eyes dig into him. Shino shifts to stand in front of him protectively. He’s glad Akamaru isn’t here; his partner is much safer with Kurenai-sensei than with him.

“Arturus promised,” is all Gaara says.

Gaara, a crazy demon host that is currently part of the enemy forces trying to kill his people, wants to join the Knights of the Round Table. He wants to laugh. This is too hilarious.

He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. Damn you, Naruto, he thinks viciously.

“Right, so first things first. Shayari,” he says.

“I’m aware,” Gaara says harshly. “Justice and respecting Mother.”

He inhales sharply and begins coughing. Just what did Naruto _say_ to Gaara? Shino’s back leans into his arm, and he gets his act together.

“Right, welcome Sir Bors,” he says, not even attempting to think it through, “first rule of the Knights is no killing other Knights.” He lies without remorse.

He gives a short, to-the-point introduction of the Knights of the Round Table. Gaara’s unwavering, unblinking eyes make it the hardest speech he’s ever given.

“Considering Suna invaded Konoha, our first mission together is to defend Konoha. I hope you like killing Sand ninja,” he says, ready to move at any sign of averseness.

The sudden mad look of ecstasy answers his non-question, and he’s left following a trail of blood with Shino. Surprisingly enough, Gaara attacks only the ninja from Sand, and the only Suna ninja to survive meeting Gaara is Kankuro and Temari.

“Safir,” he points at the tied up Temari, “because I like the name.”

“What the hell,” Sasuke says, tense and teeth bared towards Gaara.

The jinchuriki stares back at Sasuke expressionlessly. Shino keeps a shoulder brushed against his, and he takes comfort in the fact that he’s not the only one out of his depth.

“Dagonet,” he points to the unconscious Kankuro, “because I need a fool to make me laugh.”

“What. The. Hell,” Sasuke repeats brokenly.

The Third Hokage survives the attack, and many Suna ninja surrender at the news of their jinchuriki defecting. Naruto somehow manages to convince the Hokage that, “No, he can live with me. It’ll be awesome, just you see. He’s gonna be an awesome knight!”

(“I’m a puppeteer. My father was the Kazekage,” Kankuro bemoans. “I’m not supposed to be living with _tree_ people.”

“Say something funny,” he says, re-tying his armguard.

Cousin Sode’s new prototype has some problems with the straps. He’ll have to warn her about them. Luckily, it looks like Akamaru’s experimental sword holster is working just fine.

“My life is a joke,” Kankuro says miserably.

He throws back his head and laughs.)

The Sand siblings get the defector treatment, meaning lots of mistrust and watching. Still, the bizarre sight of Gaara walking around Konoha with a sword made of sand gradually becomes the new normal.

The craziness that Team Fighting Dreamers gets up to becomes far more worrying actually.

Naruto lands next to him as Sakura heals his bleeding nose. Sasuke rushes off to back up Shino and Akamaru who are currently keeping the enemy away. Shino’s so angry he can hear the buzzing from here and the sound drowns out Akamaru’s cursing.

“This is—” Naruto gestures to a Sasuke look-alike behind him.

“Lamorak,” Sakura immediately says.

He throws his hands up in the air and lets her have her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the last one in the mini-series for now. Thanks for all the comments!


	26. Re: Re: Another Team 7

“What,” is his first choice of words.

A high-pitched grunt is the only reply he gets. He stares at his reflection in the water and blinks. A black cat with the shiniest fur imaginable lets out a pitiful yowl beside him. He pokes his smooth, unblemished cheek. The cat makes another pathetic sound.

“I’ll give you ten seconds before I commit a murder-suicide,” he says.

He starts silently counting down. 10, 9, 8, 7…

“It’s Sakura’s fault,” Sasuke squeaks out.

He gives the tiny Uchiha the best glare he can manage. It probably loses its effect thanks to both his new age and his new look. The cat begins to let out crying whimpers, and he feels a headache coming on.

“She sent a new genjutsu seal,” Sasuke admits.

He closes his eyes and tries not to lose it. Sakura and Sasuke for some Sage-forsaken reason have become bitter rivals. Genjutsu seals versus the pride of the Uchiha. Of course Sasuke couldn’t resist the challenge.

“You thought you could poke it with your Sharingan, didn’t you?” He sighs.

“There was something off with it. Something dangerous–”

“Sasuke! Yukimura! You two are supposed to be doing exercises!”

It’s an unfamiliar voice to him, but the way Sasuke seizes up is concerning. A glance towards the speaker tells him everything he needs to know. The woman standing there with her hands on her hips has a familiar face; he’s seen it many times on the boy next to him.

Uchiha Mikoto, the deceased mother of Sasuke and Itachi.

Genjutsu seal, he reminds himself. What a terrible thing for Sakura to do. Sasuke looks ready to begin convulsing at any moment.

“Sorry,” he says, subtly stepping in front of Sasuke, “we were talking about how cool his brother is.”

Mikoto gives him a weird look. Did his lie get seen through?

“Itachi will be hurt that you no longer consider him your brother,” she admonishes.

Only past experience of crazy shenanigans keep his face from crumpling in shock. He gives himself a second to let that sink in before scrambling for an excuse.

“I lost at janken. Sasuke gets Itachi to himself today,” he pouts.

A glare over his shoulder seals the lie, and he takes this moment to send small, childlike killing intent behind him. Sasuke glares back, face not quite as pale as before.

“Enough,” Mikoto demands, “Yukimura, no killing intent towards your brother. Sasuke, Itachi cannot be won in a janken contest. Both of you follow me to the training yard.”

“Yes, Mother,” they chorus, and he barely falters at addressing Mikoto in such a way.

He sends Sasuke the best glare he can the moment the woman’s back is turned. The only mother he has is a terrifying demon whose existence gives him nightmares. Calling some dead woman by that name leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

“The moment we break this illusion, I’m kicking your ass,” he whispers harshly to Sasuke.

“Akamaru, come on or you’ll be left behind!” He calls to the cat that is still staring at its reflection in shock.

“Why Akamaru? He’s not red,” is the confused muttering from Mikoto he’s not supposed to hear.

-*-

He gradually loses his anger as the days drag on. It’s clear Sasuke regrets ever tampering with the seal; the ghosts surrounding them leave the Uchiha shaken and withdrawn. He starts sleeping next to Sasuke to wake the Uchiha up from nightmares.

Not that the guy is grateful for it.

“Did you just bite me?” Sasuke asks incredulously, rubbing his arm.

“You punched me in the face,” he hisses.

Akamaru is already darting across the room. He can’t understand his partner’s speech in this form, but there’s no translation needed for those rolling eyes.

“You bit me,” Sasuke says, face darkening.

“You want to do something about it?” He goads with teeth bared.

When Itachi checks in on them, the two of them are doing their best to murder each other with the shared comforter. He soon finds himself dangling in the air by the back of his shirt and shaken like a disobedient puppy. It’s oddly nostalgic.

“What has gotten into the two of you lately?” Itachi frowns, looking between him and Sasuke.

Sasuke looks away with a huff, and he crosses his arms. Both of them are still being held up by their shirts. He wonders if Itachi was always so physical or if Sasuke’s influencing the seal’s illusions.

“Sasuke wants to dye his hair pink. I’m trying to convince him it’s a bad look,” he says dryly.

“Oh, and your face tattoos would look any better?” Sasuke sneers.

“I would look amazing,” he says confidently.

It’s a thought anyways. If they don’t find a way out in the next couple of weeks, his new girly face could definitely benefit from some markings. How hard could do-it-yourself tattooing be? As if hearing his thoughts, Itachi shakes him again.

“You two will be sleeping in my room tonight,” Itachi says with a tone that forbids arguing.

-*-

“It’s just so weird,” he says, unable to look away.

Sasuke grunts, and he barely catches the toolkit in time. Akamaru hisses at him, and he assumes the ninken-turned-ordinary-cat is agreeing with him. Sasuke jumps down from the rooftop, and he sneaks another peak across the street.

Standing in front of a shop is himself. A miniature version of Inuzuka Kiba is having an enthusiastic conversation with a small Akamaru. The two of them look so real and animated.

If he didn’t have such a good grasp on his memories, he could almost imagine that his life was all a dream. That his name is Yukimura, Yuki for short, who happens to have a cat also named Akamaru. Yukimura, who has two brothers, a loving, gentle mother, and a strict, overworked father.

“Stop standing there and help me get this wire hidden,” Sasuke demands, breaking the spell.

“You have such a way with words,” he says, turning away from the strange sight.

Akamaru meows out an agreement.

-*-

“You know,” he says pleasantly, “when I helped you rig up all those wires, I didn’t think you were going to set all of Konoha on fire.”

He watches a man run by, screaming and desperately trying to pat out the flames on his clothes. He wonders if he should start shouting, “Stop, drop, and roll!”

“To destroy an illusion, you have to _destroy_ it,” Sasuke scoffs.

Akamaru’s tail curls around his neck, and he can practically hear the “I told you he was crazy” from his partner. Akamaru sits on his left shoulder, and a pack rests on his right shoulder. He fingers the strap of his bag thoughtfully.

“Did you just make us missing-nin at age five?” He wonders.

“You can’t be a missing-nin if you were never a ninja to begin with,” Sasuke points out.

A building collapses and more screams ring out. He’s kind of glad that he’s an Uchiha at the moment; all this smoke would be wreaking havoc on his senses right now. Akamaru paws at his face as if to remind him that one of them still has a sensitive nose.

“So where to next?” He asks, walking away from Konoha for the second time.

“Suna,” Sasuke decides, “we’ll begin with Suna and destroy them all one at a time.”

“All the Hidden Villages, huh? You know, none of this would have happened if you just threw out that package,” he says, needling Sasuke’s sore point.

They bicker all the way to the Land of Wind. Akamaru’s longsuffering meows interrupt them every now and then.

He has to admit: he’s curious to see how Sasuke plans to destroy a fireproof city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the promised chapter for the Another Team 7 series, but posting it instead of letting it sit on my hard drive.


	27. Re: Re: Re: Another Team 7

It begins like this:

“I blame you. I blame everything on you!” He shouts, dangling from the talon of a giant hawk.

“You were the one who wouldn’t get rid of that stupid hairpin!” Sasuke screams back, gently cradled in the hawk’s other foot.

Akamaru barks something accusatory from beneath Sasuke’s arm, and a sudden gust of wind tests his grip. He’s thankful that Akamaru is safely held in Sasuke’s grasp, but considering that he’s currently clinging to a giant hawk for dear life because Sasuke just _wouldn’t get out of the way in time_ —

Well, he’s more resentful than anything at this point.

“It was worth everything I had! How was I supposed to know the Akatsuki wanted it?” He bellows.

Actually, it begins like this:

The moment Iruka-sensei places him on Team 7 is the moment his life changes. When the team placements are announced, he ends up throwing a fist at Sasuke’s face instead of reaching a hand out to Naruto.

“I think I’ve got enough medical wipes for the both of us,” he says, poking his face gingerly.

“Hn,” Sasuke merely says.

The skin around his left eye feels uncomfortable and tight. He’s going to be showing off a shiny, black eye by the time the teachers come to collect the teams. He has to laugh though; Sasuke’s left eye is swelling up as well.

Idiots, Akamaru barks out, let’s go get Sakura.

“And get yelled at? No thanks,” he snorts.

He digs around in his jacket for his barebones medical pack. He finds the wipes, and Sasuke accepts two. It’s times like this that he wishes he has enough chakra control for medical techniques.

“What are your feelings on rice balls?” He asks, unknowingly cementing his and Sasuke’s friendship.

Team 7 has a rocky start. He fails to convince Naruto to work with Sasuke, and he’s the one who gets tied to the stump. His team barely passes Kakashi-sensei’s test, and their teacher shows next to no interest in training them.

He does his best to bridge the gap between Naruto and Sasuke, but—

“Hey, Kakashi-sensei! Get back here you pervert!” Naruto screams and runs off.

“There the moron goes again,” Sasuke says with disdain. “He thinks he can beat a jonin. What a joke.”

—it’s a work in a progress.

By the time he gets his team on board to pester the Hokage for a C-rank mission, he’s not too sure if any of them will survive it. The more he gets to know his teammates, the less certain he is on how any of them passed the bell test.

Sakura doesn’t help with her bragging.

“Hinata’s amazing. You should see what she can do when she believes in herself,” Sakura tells him with stars in her eyes. “Shino’s quiet, but he’s reliable.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he says, absolutely not pouting.

More scratches, Akamaru demands while nudging Sakura’s hands. Sakura pulls the ninken into her lap and answers the demand. He laughs at Akamaru’s blissful expression.

He halves a piece of pumpkin spiced bread, and Sakura takes it with bright eyes. Part of him wants to be resentful, but he’s honestly happy for her. It helps that for all that he complains, he’s having fun beating up Sasuke and rescuing Naruto from Kakashi-sensei’s counter pranks.

“Let me tell you what happened after Naruto switched those book covers,” he grins.

He decides against telling Sakura about his C-rank. No need to worry her. It’s supposed to be an easy mission escorting a traveling merchant from a nearby village to Konoha.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Something wet touches his cheek, and he struggles to open his eyes. It feels like there’s something sitting on his chest, and he can’t breathe. His head feels like it’s under water, and everything _hurts_. What happened?

“Fix him.” That demand couldn’t be anybody but Sasuke.

“Kakashi-sensei!” There’s Naruto with the only word he seems to know nowadays.

“Move, I’m a medic.” Unknown.

“Thanks for the backup. I can’t help but notice your group is very capable for not being ninja.” Kakashi-sensei with that proper paranoia.

“Your student is dying and one of them got away. Capable is not the word I would use,” the unknown voice says heavily.

All the voices jumble up, and he can no longer make sense out of the noise. He remembers now; the enemy swarmed towards Sasuke, and instead of protecting the client like he was supposed to, he jumped to his teammate’s defense.

Hang in there partner, just for a little bit longer. It’s a whisper compared to the other voices, but it gives him strength.

He wakes up to a hospital room, and Akamaru resting on his legs. He almost sets off his heart monitor when he notices Sasuke sleeping in a chair next to him. He stares at the peaceful expression on Sasuke’s face before rousing the Uchiha. He regrets it immediately.

“What did you think would happen?” Sasuke sneers. “Jumping in front of a lightning bolt is something Naruto would do!”

“Didn’t know you needed your beauty rest. Go back to sleep and stop bitching at me,” he says irritably.

You’re fine, Akamaru says dryly, I never should have worried.

Sasuke doesn’t stop at telling him off for his “unnecessary rescue.” His teammate goes and gets Sakura so she can chew him out. Sakura brings Naruto with her, and Kakashi-sensei drops by at some point. By the end of day, the only one that doesn’t end up scolding him is Akamaru.

Just glad to have you back, Akamaru mutters.

He rubs the ninken behind the ears fondly while shooting Sasuke a dark look. Sasuke glares back, eyes spinning threateningly with the Sharingan. He throws a spoon at the Uchiha’s face, and Sasuke avoids it effortlessly. He’s only a little jealous.

(He doesn’t know he died. That his heart stopped beating and he was declared deceased for a minute and a half. He doesn’t know that Sasuke activated both the Sharingan and the Mangekyo Sharingan. The Mangekyo won’t show for another year)

Kakashi-sensei treats him a little more warmly once he recovers. His teacher shows him different ways to work with nin-dogs while Naruto and Sasuke learn the tree and water-walking exercises. He spends the next couple of months more or less self-training.

“Something’s off,” he murmurs to Akamaru during a D-rank. “All those village-less ninja right outside of Konoha? And there are more messenger hawks going out too.”

A loud crack stops the ninken from responding, and he grabs the team’s medic kit without looking. He feels like he’s been given a puzzle and one piece to solve it with, but he has no time to think about it thanks to his troublesome teammates.

“If you broke that fence, I’ll beat the shit out of you!” He shouts.

(To her teammates' worry, Ino becomes solemn and withdrawn. Hinata keeps a stutter and her head down. Frowning, Sakura creates a support group for her fellow kunoichi, but nothing really gets solved. He sees even less of Sakura from then on)

The Chunin Exams are where things begin to really get weird. He has no idea on how to protect Sasuke, and the problem gets taken out of his hands.

“Come with me if you want to live,” a mysterious girl with crooked glasses smiles.

He clutches Akamaru to him in disbelief. His bleeding leg and Naruto’s unconscious body is a testament to this girl’s ability. Sasuke stands between them and the girl, but he’s pretty sure the Uchiha doesn’t have a chance.

“It’s not a request,” the girl says, head tilting. “I’m saving your neck whether you like it or not.”

Sure enough, the mysterious girl throws Naruto over her shoulder like a sack of rice and leads them to the tower as if out for a casual stroll. Sasuke carries him princess-style the entire time with a scowl, and he places this moment under “things to never talk about, ever.”

(Akamaru’s been knocked out, and his leg is injured. How else was it supposed to happen? Gah, forget it)

He forfeits the preliminaries, and Sasuke and Naruto win their matches. Considering Gaara kills a Rain ninja that’s been shooting killing intent at Sasuke, he throws everything he knows about the manga out the door.

He pretends to not notice the heated looks a garish-looking Grass ninja sends him. Well, he tries to until Naruto shouts,

“Hey, back up mister! He’s got a girlfriend even if they’re on the outs right now!”

The silence between the genin waiting in the arena is terribly loud. Akamaru chokes out a laugh from inside his jacket. He runs that sentence through his head half a dozen times.

“We’re not on the outs,” he says miffed even as Sakura yells, “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“But I’m not into inter-village relationships eithers,” he hurries to say when the silence drags on.

Somehow, he feels like every single genin is judging him harder regardless. Akamaru makes a wisecrack about his supposedly shameful attraction to cats. He flicks the ninken on the nose.

The final nail in the coffin comes when he decides to break into Sasuke’s house with an armful of alcohol.

Don’t do it, Akamaru warns, he’s crazy.

He pretends to be deaf while setting the alcohol down. He raids Sasuke’s cupboards for snacks and drinking glasses; Akamaru lets out a disgusted huff at his back.

Sighing, he opens the fridge for anything worthwhile. There are only tomatoes and rice balls. It’ll have to do. He dodges the senbon aimed for his hand.

“You do this every time,” Sasuke grouches.

“Wouldn’t have to if you just gave me a key,” he says cheerfully.

Sasuke doesn’t try to stop him from seizing the food, and he heads for Sasuke’s absurdly long table. It’s kind of sad that the Uchiha still eats on a family table, but it means there’s plenty of room for everything he’s brought.

“What are you doing?” Sasuke asks with wide eyes as he begins setting up.

He really outdid himself with the amount of alcoholic beverages. There’s no way the two of them can drink it all.

“I’ve got something to tell you. Either you’ll believe me or blame it on the alcohol,” he says grimly.

Sitting down, he pops open a bag of crackers and pours out two glasses with something that shimmers pink. The color is the exact shade of Sakura’s hair, and it causes a slight twinge of guilt. Sakura has no idea that he intends to reveal their secret.

“This is safe to drink?” Sasuke sits across from him and eyes the pink liquid warily.

“My cousin swore by it,” he says with a shrug and takes a sip.

Oh wow, that has a kick. He licks his lips—it tastes like some kind of berry, he thinks—and slides the other glass to Sasuke. The Uchiha gives it a dull look.

Akamaru lets out one last bark—don’t say I didn’t warn you—before settling down on a cushion Sasuke denied buying specifically for the ninken.

“Let me tell you a story,” he says, tongue tingling. “You’ll hate it since it’s named, ‘Naruto.’ ”

“Great,” Sasuke tells him before grabbing the glass.

He throws up at some point, but he makes it to the trashcan in time. Sasuke is not so lucky. Even in his stupid state, he knows better than to laugh. He left the Uchiha Incident near the end for a reason.

Emotional outbursts leave the room in a mess, and Akamaru is nice enough to drag a blanket onto him once he passes out. He thinks about running a kunai through his eye in the morning.

Sasuke tells him through a series of grunts and glares, “I believe you. Now get the hell out.” He makes a rude gesture, flops onto the floor, and tries to smother himself with the blanket. They spend the day in miserable silence.

Kakashi-sensei drags Sasuke away the very next day. Luckily, the Uchiha is fine by then. Unluckily, it means Sasuke is left to think on everything said with only Kakashi-sensei as emotional support.

He’s not the least bit surprised when the final part of the exam goes sideways, and the strange Grass ninja releases the arena-wide genjutsu early. When he finds two groups of unknown ninja arguing over his body after he struggles to break the illusion—that’s a bit more startling.

Let’s do that trick Naruto’s trying to learn, Akamaru whispers to him from his lap, I’ll follow you.

It’s fortunate that he happened to be hugging Akamaru when the technique went off. Hiding his hand movements under the ninken, he uses the Body Replacement technique with a discarded knife and leaves behind a temporary clone.

Akamaru matches his movements and flickers away with him, leaving a shoddy imitation behind.

The quarrelling ninja don’t seem to notice something off with his now faceless body and ninken, and he rolls away to crawl under the seats. He looks for Naruto and ends up meeting with the mysterious girl from the previous test.

“Not to worry,” the girl says, glasses glinting, “Kenshin’s working on it. I need you to draw their attention away. Go big, go loud, go boom.”

He doesn’t even try to make sense of anything that spews out of her mouth. He turns away from the crushed wall of the arena and heads for the entrance where the fighting is more intense. If it happens to be in the opposite direction of the demonic energy, so be it.

“I’m pissed off, and my day is ruined,” he tells Akamaru casually. “Let’s ruin it for everybody else too.”

Double-Headed Wolf transformation fulfills the need for big and loud. They start wrecking everything they can get their claws on, and their mouths fill with blood. Their howls make ninja run the other way, and they don’t even realize how injured they are until they’re almost out of chakra.

“Bad puppy,” Kakashi-sensei says dryly, “take these pills and hide.”

Tired, Akamaru whines, pawing at his shoes.

He picks the ninken up and looks over Akamaru’s injuries. Nothing too terrible and he’s not that bad off either. It’s probably best to go back to the arena. If he remembers right, there’s a medic station there.

The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stand straight up. He looks around but feels no killing intent. Kakashi-sensei makes no obvious sign of sensing something wrong, but reaches down to grab him by the back of his jacket.

“To make sure you don’t run off, I’ll take you there myself,” Kakashi-sensei says with a smile.

He spends the rest of the invasion in the arena, hanging out with the injured genin. He falls asleep at one point only to be woken up by Sasuke who’s furious over missing most of the action.

“I even arrived early,” Sasuke says with a clenched fist.

“Guess the worm was just earlier,” he remarks dryly.

Konoha loses its Hokage to Orochimaru, and the genin are forced into weeks of cleanup only to go on mission after mission. D-ranks and C-ranks are plentiful, but Naruto is too downcast to be exuberant about it.

One day, Naruto doesn’t show up for a team mission, and he shares a knowing glance with Sasuke. Kakashi-sensei, who’s been more than a little absent lately, shoves the two of them onto another genin team temporarily.

Their temporary genin team falls through, and they get reassigned two more times. They end up going on a mission to establish a contract with an underground marketplace near Konoha’s border. He’s sure there’s a clerical error involved, but Sasuke silences him every time he tries to get someone to notice it.

“We’re probably going to die,” he says out of the corner of his mouth.

“You might,” Sasuke shoots back, “but we’ll never get stronger if we stay here and paint fences all day.”

As much as I hate to admit it, he does have a point, Akamaru says.

The jonin and chunin, irritated over being stuck babysitting, do their absolute best to make the trip to the border as miserable as possible. He starts poking Sasuke whenever the Uchiha begins to activate the Sharingan out of pure anger.

Ditch ‘em, Akamaru says sourly.

By silent agreement, that is what happens. Sasuke and he separate from the jonin and chunin to roam around the marketplace by themselves. He wonders what Kakashi-sensei would do upon finding out their squad captain just let them go.

“Oi,” he says, slowing to a stop, “I think Sakura has a dress in that style.”

He stops in front of the stand and tilts his head. It’s a pretty hairpin, elaborate in design. The jewels on it match her eye color exactly. She’d like it, he thinks. It’d make a good birthday present.

“What does it do?” Sasuke asks the seller flatly.

This place may operate as a normal marketplace, but all the vendors and stands will disappear in roughly five hours. Every item here is expensive, valuable, and geared towards chakra users.

“Seals are inside the stones to store chakra for rainy days,” the seller replies, eyeing their clothes critically.

“I’ll take it,” he says, pulling out his wallet.

The seller brightens up at the sight of money, and he spends all his savings on it. He’ll be making more soon enough, and it’ll be worth it considering Sakura’s low chakra reserves. He’s got a gut feeling about this gift.

(He finds out that the seller accidentally put the hairpin in a box that was hiding a very special ring. His gut let him down, he thinks mournfully while gripping a giant hawk’s talon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Dedicated to three people who requested it.


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